


In the Public Eye

by Talis_Borne



Series: Nimueh’s Spell [11]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows, BAMF Merlin, Bromance, Canon Divergence, Comfort, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Gen, Magic Reveal, post series 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talis_Borne/pseuds/Talis_Borne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Arthur’s coronation day and he’s done with keeping Merlin’s secret.  But is Camelot ready to accept a sorcerer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been a long time in coming. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> I don’t own the rights to the Merlin TV series and I’m not intending to make any money off these stories. This is strictly for sharing between friends.

His coronation. A day he had both anticipated and feared. The crown sat on the table polished to a high shine, waiting to be carried into the throne room for the ceremony. Merlin and Cadby bustled about putting the finishing touches on Arthur's attire. It took the two of them to settle the heavy ermine cloak over his shoulders and fasten the gold clasp. The weight of it settling on his shoulders felt like the weight of the kingdom to Arthur. Merlin stepped in front of Arthur to tweak it further into place, while Cadby took a brush to those spots where the fur no longer lay straight. 

"That's quite enough, Merlin. Cadby can handle it from here," said Arthur. 

Merlin continued to fuss with the cloak. "You'll want to look your best today, Sire," he said with a smile. 

Arthur caught his wrist to stop him. "Yes, and my servant can attend to that. You don't need to." 

Merlin looked at Arthur blankly. "I am your servant, Arthur." 

"In a sense," agreed Arthur, dropping Merlin's hand. "But no longer in the sense of you being my manservant." 

"You're sacking me?" asked Merlin, confused. 

Arthur took a breath, wondering how badly Merlin was going to take his decision. "I'm removing the deception." 

"I don't understand." 

"I'm not going to deal in dishonesty, Merlin. While my Father was alive there was reason to continue the pretence. But my knights supported my decision to keep a sorcerer and there's no reason now for them not to know what you are." Arthur heard Cadby's gasp and felt the stroke of the brush stop, but he kept his eyes on Merlin's face, which was rapidly draining of blood. 

"Arthur, this is not a good idea," hissed Merlin. His eyes briefly glanced in Cadby's direction, but then held Arthur's gaze. "Later, when you're secure on your throne…" 

"Now, Merlin," Arthur said firmly. "Today. After the Lords and Knights give their pledges of loyalty, you're taking one as my court sorcerer." 

"What brought this on?" demanded Merlin, taking a shocked step away from his master. 

"Morgana deals in lies and deception. What's scary is she's started to believe her own lies. I can't be like that. I'm not following my sister into insanity." Arthur took a step closer to Merlin. "There will always be some reason to keep you hidden, that Morgana will know you for the threat you are and try to remove you, if nothing else. But I cannot lead if part of my administration is hidden in shadows where no one can see it. I value your council too much not to have you openly at my side." 

Merlin blinked. Softly, he replied, "Thank you, Arthur. I'll try to live up to that trust." 

"Then go get dressed," growled Arthur, "the nice clothes you have hiding in the back of your cupboard." 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, Arthur," he moaned and went to obey. 

Arthur felt the brush strokes begin again on his back. "Cadby, are you all right?" he asked. 

"Yes, Sire," mumbled the servant. 

"Come where I can see you," ordered Arthur. 

The servant stepped around him, his eyes downcast. 

"I know this is a shock," said Arthur quietly, his gaze burning steadily. "I'll probably shock the entire court today. I'm going to need the support of those around me. Can I count on you?" 

"Of course, Sire," said Cadby, straightening his back. 

"Then bring Gaius to me and see if my escort is ready," said Arthur firmly. 

Cadby put down the brush and bowed himself out. Arthur took a deep breath and steeled himself for the ceremony to come. 

***********************

Trumpets blared, announcing the entrance of the King, for that was what Arthur was, even uncrowned. The crowd of Lords, Ladies, and Knights turned to watch Arthur promenade down the aisle from the double doors to the throne. Lord Agravaine awaited Arthur at the foot of the dais as the Lords' representative and the Lord nearest the throne by blood after the King himself. Sir Marhaus, Uther's seneschal, stood on the lowest step of the dais at the right hand of the throne. Sir Leon preceded Arthur, carrying the crown before him on a purple velvet pillow. As they reached the dais, Sir Leon turned aside, taking a place on the lowest step opposite Sir Marhaus. Arthur stopped before his uncle. 

In ceremonial tones Lord Agravaine demanded, "By what right do you, Arthur Pendragon, claim the throne of Camelot?" 

"By right of blood," answered Arthur in a ringingly clear voice. "I claim the throne of Camelot as my Father's heir, who was King over Camelot by right of conquest for twenty-nine years. But also through my Mother's right as daughter to the King he conquered, that line having endured more than three hundred years. Through both of my parents, the blood of Camelot flows in me." 

Agravaine stepped aside and Arthur proceeded to the throne, sweeping his cloak to one side as he turned to face the massed nobility of Camelot before it. Agravaine followed him and took his station at Arthur's right on the step below him. Sir Leon ascended to a position opposite Lord Agravaine as Sir Marhaus descended to stand directly before Arthur facing him from the floor. 

Sir Marhaus knelt, holding out his rod of office horizontally to signal his authority and deference to the king. "Arthur Pendragon, the nobility of Camelot acknowledges your right to the throne and requests your justice and mercy upon your kingdom." 

Arthur's voice rang through the hall. "I pledge to hold every man's honor as I hold my own. I pledge to create only such law as is necessary for the betterment of the kingdom and to uphold the law of the land. If this be justice in your eyes, say you now." 

"Justice, justice, justice," chanted the knights and nobility. Sir Marhaus retook his place on the lowest step. 

Arthur seated himself on his throne. Sir Leon and Lord Agravaine stepped toward each other and Agravaine lifted the crown. In a voice that carried but betrayed some strain, Lord Agravaine called out, "All hail Arthur, King of Camelot!" as he placed the crown on Arthur's head. 

"Long live the King!" shouted the massed nobility. "Long live the King! Long live the King!" 

Sir Marhaus asked, "Arthur, King of Camelot, may I have the honor of presenting your Lords and Knights?" 

"You may," agreed Arthur. Thereafter came the interminable part of the ceremony where each Lord (or Lady as there were two who held their rank in their own right) advanced to the foot of the dais, was introduced (despite the fact that Arthur knew them all) and gave his personal vow of loyalty to Camelot and obedience to the new King. The knights then advanced in groups of four, dropped to one knee and held their swords before their faces in sign of pledge. Sir Marhaus gave each knight's name after which the knights presented exclaimed, "My sword ever in your defense!" and retired to the crowd. Lord Agravaine being the first Lord presented, and Sir Leon being the first of the knights, they now stood on the floor with others of their rank. 

As the last of the knights retired, Sir Marhaus intoned, "May your reign be long and prosperous, King Arthur, and your people ever come to the defense of peace." 

Arthur rose to more cheers of "Long live the King." The ceremony being over, Arthur should have proceeded to the balcony to address the crowd awaiting him outside. But he held up his hand for silence. Sound abated to confused whispers. 

"Most of you know, or have heard rumors, that during my time as Regent I set aside the law in granting one man dispensation to perform magic in the service of the crown. I do not propose to begin my reign in hypocrisy. As of now, magic is no longer banned in Camelot for itself, but only for its effects. If any be harmed by magic, let that person bring charges as to the harm done. For those who might work magic or hire a sorcerer, I caution, think well. Too often one turns to magic for easy answers and easy answers often bring unintended consequences, for which you will be held responsible." 

Mutterings sounded around the room at this speech. Arthur caught and held the gazes of his watching Lords. 

"My Father employed at least two sorcerers in his youth; one who urged caution and one who cast spells without counting the cost. The second cost my Mother her life. The first set aside his magic in order to offer his knowledge for the protection of Camelot. He has served Camelot well and faithfully ever since and I value his counsel. If you think that Gaius is now my sorcerer, you are mistaken. I mention him to assure you that I have ample counsel in a matter no other could adequately judge." 

"Each of you has given this day a pledge of fidelity to Camelot and to me, as is appropriate for men of power. I would have you witness also my sorcerer's pledges that you may be confident that magic will serve and protect the kingdom." Arthur nodded at Gaius where he stood at the back of the crowd. Gaius stepped into the aisle and then indicated that Merlin should precede him. Murmurs of surprise and doubt rose as Merlin started down the aisle, Gaius shadowing him a step behind and to his left. Merlin stopped at the foot of the dais. Arthur nodded to him to indicate he should kneel and for once Merlin got the message and dropped to his knees. 

"Merlin, will you pledge your power to the service and protection of Camelot?" demanded the monarch. 

"Sire," Merlin swallowed to steady his voice. "I pledge myself ever to your service and to the defense of Camelot." 

"Will you be ever mindful of the consequence of your magic and see that it exacts no effect above what duty I may approve?" questioned the King. 

More sure of himself, Merlin replied, "Sire, I will ever seek your consent for any magic that might exact reckoning of any beyond myself." 

"Then I accept you as my Court Sorcerer and Master of Magic in the Kingdom of Camelot." Arthur descended to the bottom step and held out his hand. When Merlin looked at him quizzically, Arthur whispered without moving his lips, "Kiss the seal." Merlin rolled his eyes slightly, but took Arthur's hand and kissed his ring. "You may retire," allowed Arthur. 

Merlin got a little unsteadily to his feet. He had barely turned when a thrown dagger soared at his chest. Merlin caught it automatically with his magic, halting the weapon sharply in mid-air. Gasps hissed through the crowd at the open display of magic. Merlin returned the dagger hilt first along its path down the aisle, abruptly stopping it before the knight who had thrown it. Sir Tremayne stared at his dagger floating in the air before him. 

"Take it," commanded Arthur icily, staring at his knight. The crowd silenced abruptly at the new King's tone. 

Tremayne complied with a shaking hand, Merlin releasing it as he felt the pressure of Tremayne's grasp. 

"Approach me, Sir Tremayne," directed the King. Merlin stepped to one side as Tremayne passed him, neither taking their eyes from the other until Arthur called his knight's attention. "Sir Tremayne, you but lately made a pledge of loyalty to me. Tell me truly if you can not honor it." 

"Sire," trembled Sir Tremayne, "I will with all my heart follow wherever you should lead, but if this sorcerer has some hold over you, the only cure is his death." 

Arthur's voice softened, but still carried his authority, "Indeed, if he held sway over me, but it is the other way around. I know this is new to you, but trust me for a little while. I will not fail you." 

Tremayne nodded, bowing his head in submission. 

Arthur raised his voice, "Are there any here who can not in conscience keep their oaths while a sorcerer remains in my service?" 

The silence stretched until Gwaine interrupted it with a cry of "Long live the King!" By the third repetition, all the audience had joined the exclamation. 

***********************

Arthur took his seat at the head table, waiting while the nobles filed in amidst a general hubbub, Lord Agravaine and Sir Marhaus at his right and Sir Leon and old Lord Arundel filling the seats to his left. He had made no mention of magic to the common people, appearing only briefly on the balcony to receive their accolades and assure them of the continued glory of Camelot. He had announced that there would be changes in the coming days and prayed for the support of his people in his reign. There had been an uncomfortable ripple in the crowd at the allusion to changes, but the rejoicing crowd had hailed him mightily as he withdrew from the balcony. 

Arthur frowned as his eyes swept the crowd, noting an unwelcome change. There had been ladies enough in the throne room, but few of them were joining the banquet. Most of the Lords sat down alone, leaving quite a few chairs empty. Arthur smiled and nodded at Guinevere, whose chair was being pushed in by her brother across the room. Guinevere smiled back a little tentatively and Arthur continued to scan, noting only three more Ladies in the room. Lady Isla and Lady Douglas, who held their fiefs in their own names, took seats together as though for support. Lady Ahearn (who Arthur thought was something of an old battle axe) sat with her husband and two of her three knighted sons, though the two daughters of the family were conspicuously absent. 

Arthur decided that he'd better put the problem up front, though perhaps not at the head table. Lord Ogden had just begun to pull out the chair at the top of the long table to the right. Arthur called his attention and motioned him to move down. Lord Ogden frowned slightly, but bowed his head and took the next seat down. Arthur caught Merlin's eye, where he'd just sat down next to Gaius at the lowest table, and motioned him forward. Merlin scurried to obey, but Arthur held up a hand to stop him and then pointed to the seat Lord Ogden had just vacated. Merlin shook his head. Arthur nodded once and pointed again. Merlin walked to the seat indicated with as much enthusiasm as he would have shown for the stocks. The general clamor fell markedly as the sorcerer took his seat. 

Arthur surged to his feet, raising the goblet Cadby had just filled for him. "To the memory of King Uther," he called. Some of the lords looked as though they could choke on the new King's hypocrisy. Most of the knights looked more accepting. "I am not my Father, but I hope to be as good a King, even if I must do so in my own way." 

"To King Uther," responded the audience in reverence. Not everyone's goblets had been filled yet, but everyone raised one. Arthur sat down again and the servants continued to fill goblets at the lower tables while the head table was served steaming hunks of roast boar and boiled turnips with onion and gravy. 

A bit of a whispered argument erupted between the servants behind the right hand table. Lord Ogden banged his still empty goblet on the table to call the servers' attention to the fact. Felton, a middle aged servant who had briefly aspired to the place Cadby now held, advanced with a pitcher of wine to fill the Lord's goblet. When he had done so, he stepped around Lord Ogden's chair to fill Merlin's goblet. 

Merlin said, "Thank you," and Felton's hand shook so hard in reaction at being spoken to by an acknowledged sorcerer, that he splashed red wine all over Merlin's cream colored shirt and dark leather vest. Again, the general clamor in the hall muted, all attention pinned to Merlin's reaction. Merlin rolled his eyes to the ceiling, considered a moment and then muttered a quick spell. The stain instantly disappeared. Merlin glanced at the head table for Arthur's reaction. Arthur gave him the shallowest of nods and Merlin settled back into his seat, sipping his wine. 

Lord Ogden snorted in disgust and got up from the table. He quickly found a spot to sit around the other side of the hall. The two lords next to him followed his example, frowning as though they'd just seen something vulgar. Neither Felton nor any of the other servants would approach Merlin again, and the sorcerer's plate remained empty even when everyone else at the table had been served. Arthur was sure that Merlin would go hungry rather than make an issue of it and was about to say something when Cadby stomped over with a well filled plate for the sorcerer. Thereafter, Cadby saw to Merlin as well as Arthur. This seemed to be too much for Agravaine. 

"Sire," he complained, "I can perhaps understand your willingness to take on a sorcerer in the face of Morgana's intransigence, but I would think you would want one who could do more than instantly clean the laundry." 

Arthur smiled. "Don't confuse willingness to take on such tasks with inability to do more, Uncle." 

"And are we to be treated to exhibitions of such minor magic on a regular basis?" sneered Agravaine. 

"Perhaps, Uncle," said Arthur blandly. "My grandfather kept a sorcerer, did he not? Did that sorcerer display his magic often?" 

"Osred knew his place, and your grandfather certainly never seated him above the salt," reproached Agravaine. 

Arthur frowned. "We can speak of matters of protocol tomorrow, Uncle. For the moment, I've arranged things for my convenience." 

"I had a sorcerer myself," broke in Lord Arundel. "That was before the great purge, of course. Never did much, mostly healing magic. Wouldn't have hurt a fly, but Uther would burn him." 

"He couldn't have hurt a fly, didn't have the magic for it," snorted Agravaine. "Most sorcerers don't actually. Most only know a few spells and if you get outside their specialty, you can quickly get around them. That's why Uther was so effective at rounding them up. There really aren't that many that are worth anyone's fear." 

"Why don't you simply ask the question, Agravaine?" asked Arundel querulously. Addressing Merlin, he demanded, "Young man, are you a match for Morgana?" 

Merlin's brow wrinkled with apprehension. "I've won more of our battles than I've lost, my Lord." 

"You claim to have battled Morgana?" demanded Agravaine. 

"I have, though she hasn't always known it," replied Merlin. Merlin decided it was time to get off the defensive. "She hadn't told you?" 

Agravaine was on his feet. "You accuse…? This is intolerable! If you were a knight I'd challenge you. As it is…" 

Roaring laughter interrupted him. Gwaine slapped the table in front of him. "I would love to see that, Agravaine. We've spent weeks working out tactics with Merlin. I'll lay odds no single knight can take him and you would have no chance at all." 

Agravaine sank back into his seat. "Do you mean to tell me that you never managed to take him, even all of you together?" 

"No," replied Gwaine cheerily. "But I'm not about to tell you how many knights it takes. If you want a fair fight though, I'll happily take your challenge." 

"Gwaine," warned Arthur, "there will be no challenges at my banquet." 

Gwaine lifted his glass in salute. 

"Lord Arundel," said Sir Leon diplomatically, "Some of us have had the chance to see what Merlin can do both in practice and, once we knew what we were looking for, on the field. I, for one, am satisfied with the appointment." 

"Hear, hear," bellowed Kay heartily, lifting his glass. All the other knights who had worked with Merlin lifted their glasses in agreement. 

"I trust that is enough corroboration for you, Lord Arundel?" asked Arthur mildly. 

Arundel sniffed. "Well, he can't very well have you all in his power. No sorcerer can accomplish that, or Morgana would have already done it." The matter of the sorcerer seemingly settled for the moment, talk turned to other things. 


	2. Chapter 2

A soft tap sounded at Gaius' door. Gaius finished pulling on his robe and glanced out the window for the faint signs of dawn as he called, "Come in?" 

Cadby peeked around the door and entered. "I brought you some water," he said, depositing a full pail on the table. 

"That was kind of you," said Gaius, running his hand through his still sleep mused hair. 

"Not really," replied Cadby uncomfortably. "I didn't want Merlin going down for it." 

"Why not?" asked Merlin, pulling open his door and joining them. He pulled on his worn leather jacket, his neckerchief still in his hand. 

"You went to the pump for water last night," said Cadby. 

"What of it?" asked Merlin. 

Slowly Cadby replied, "Now no one will use that pump." 

Merlin startled. "What?" 

"Well, I did," Cadby said defensively, "but none of the other servants will." 

"That doesn't make any sense," protested Merlin. 

"They're afraid you did something to the water," breathed Cadby. 

Gaius snorted. "You've become the Dreaded Sorcerer." 

"That's mad!" exclaimed Merlin. 

"You saw how the Lords reacted to you at the banquet," said Gaius. "Did you think the common folk would react any better?" 

"I saw how the servants were reacting yesterday too, but really, they all know me," insisted Merlin. "People should be afraid of Morgana, not me." 

"But you are here," said Gaius. 

Merlin turned, swinging his arms in frustration. "This will blow over in a few days." 

"No, I don't think it will," said Gaius. "Your status has changed. It will probably be several weeks before things settle into the new arrangement." 

"It can't be that bad," maintained Merlin. 

"Bad enough you shouldn't go out today if you can help it. Your appearance might cause a riot," said Cadby, biting his lip. "My parents almost didn't let me come to work today. My brothers actually blocked the door." 

"But you managed to convince them I wasn't a problem?" asked Merlin hopefully. 

Cadby looked at the ceiling. "I threatened to invite you to supper when I finally got loose if they didn't get out of my way." 

"Oi," said Merlin, smacking his head. 

"Father fairly pitched me out the door when I said it. Not sure if I'm allowed back. But just now I have to figure out how I'm going to get the King a proper breakfast," said Cadby. 

"I should think the kitchen could manage a proper breakfast for the King despite knowing there's a sorcerer in the castle," snapped Merlin. 

"Not so much," said Cadby hesitantly. "The cook keeps breaking down into hysterics over you." 

Shocked, Merlin deadpanned, "The cook took a ladle to me just last week." 

"That could be the problem." Cadby thought a moment. "What kind of pie do you like?" 

"Why?" asked Merlin suspiciously. 

"I'll suggest that she bake you something for an apology," said Cadby reasonably. "Maybe that will calm her down." 

Merlin's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. "If everyone in the castle is terrified of me, why aren't you?" 

Cadby met his gaze. "I am scared," he admitted, "a little, but suddenly I have your job, and it's a big job, taking care of the King. I've been watching you do it for the last few weeks and I know there were times when you had to be scared or didn't know how to do what Arthur asked of you. But you just got on with it and that's what I'm doing." 

Gaius let loose a sharp bark of laughter. "Good on you." He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Uther told the people for more than a quarter century that all sorcerers were an evil not to be tolerated. You can't expect to be accepted just because Arthur says so." 

"Arthur's the King," said Merlin pointedly. 

"An untested and untried King," said Gaius, withdrawing his hand. 

Merlin closed his eyes. "I told him this wasn't a good idea." 

"Well, now he's done it and you're going to have to figure out how to live with it," said Gaius firmly, "starting with asking Arthur to provide you with your own quarters." 

Merlin's eyes flew open. "You're kicking me out?" 

Gaius straightened his shoulders and said sternly, "I have patients to see, Merlin, and they may not come to me if I'm sharing quarters with the sorcerer they fear. It's bad enough Arthur reminded folk I used to be one. Best if you set up housekeeping elsewhere." 

"Who's going to run your errands for you?" asked Merlin, confusion and hurt in his eyes. 

"You certainly can't. I'll have to find someone, and do them myself until I can," said Gaius. The old man took hold of Merlin by both shoulders. "My boy, you have your own tasks to do. I know you feel adrift right now, but it won't be long before routine sets in." 

Merlin grimaced a sickly smile at him. 

"Come on now," said Gaius, leading Merlin to the table. "We'll have some breakfast. Arthur will be sending for you soon enough, I'm sure." 

"If he can find anyone who's willing," grumbled Merlin. 

"I'll come and get you," said Cadby, "as soon as his Highness is with the day." He hurried off. 

Merlin laid his head on his arms miserably. 

*************************** 

Cadby surprised Merlin by opening Arthur's door for him and waiting for the sorcerer to precede him. Merlin blushed, uncomfortable with such a courtesy. 

Arthur was just rising from breakfast. "This is going to take some getting used to, not having you here in the morning." 

"Yes," agreed Merlin. "I didn't have anything to do this morning." 

"You can start by writing my speeches for this week," said Arthur, annoyed. "I think I'm supposed to give half a dozen. That's not a duty that Cadby can take over. You actually seem to know what I want to say and I certainly don't have time to write them all. It's easier to just edit yours." 

"I'll get right to work on that," said Merlin, somewhat relieved to have something to do. "Cadby, could you get me some ink? Since I'm apparently not supposed to go out." 

"Certainly, Master Merlin," answered Cadby deferentially. Merlin and Arthur both startled visibly and stared at the servant. "That is the correct form of address, Sire, isn't it?" asked Cadby, turning large eyes to the King. 

"I'd really rather you not…" began Merlin, looking slightly horrified. 

Cadby ignored him, staying focused on Arthur. "Some of the members of the staff were anxious about not miscalling the new Court Sorcerer. We haven't had one before and as you created Merlin 'Master of Magic,' I thought…" 

"It is, I suppose," confirmed Arthur coming out of a bit of a daze with a shake of his head. "What do you mean you're not supposed to go out?" he demanded of Merlin. 

"Apparently, the servants are quaking in their boots every time I pass by," grated Merlin. 

"Well, they're just going to have to get used to it," snorted Arthur. 

"Gaius asked me to move out," said Merlin flatly. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow at that. "Didn't Gaius teach you most of what you know?" 

"Yes, the basics at least, but most people don't know that. Gaius thinks some of his patients will avoid coming to him for fear of running into me." 

"I'll have Sir Marhaus assign you your own quarters," said Arthur, avoiding Merlin's eyes. "That doesn't mean you have to hide." 

"People are scared, Arthur!" Merlin burst out. "I'm scaring them! They're so used to the idea that all sorcerers are evil that they can't imagine I'm not. I need to stay out of the way so people can calm down." 

"No, you're wrong," said Arthur, brandishing one finger in Merlin's face. "Now that people know you're a sorcerer, they're watching to see what you'll do, just as they're watching to see what I do as King. If you do nothing, they'll stay scared waiting for you to finally burst out and cause mayhem." Arthur threw out his arms. "You need to do something, something big. Something that shows what you're capable of. And you need to ask my permission to do it. Publicly, so people know that I'm in charge." 

Merlin's mouth hung open. "You want me to scare the bejabers out of people?" 

Arthur stepped close to him and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Merlin, lots of things in life are scary. Fire is scary, when it's out of control. But it's comforting when it's in a grate. Armies are scary, when they're bearing down on a town. But the crowds cheer them as they go out the city gate to meet the enemy." Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulders. "Your task isn't to show the people you aren't scary, it's to show them that you work for them rather than against them." 

"I don't want to be scary," muttered Merlin. 

"Too late," quipped Arthur, releasing Merlin with a playful shove. "I've seen how many knights you can take on at one time. You're definitely scary." 

Merlin thought through what Arthur had just said. Concern laced his tone. "Arthur, if you're scared of my power, everyone else will be." 

"Do I look scared?" asked Arthur stolidly. 

"No," Merlin admitted. 

"That's because I have faith in your loyalty, just as I have faith in the loyalty of my knights. Now, forget about scaring the people, it's my job to calm them. You concentrate on scaring the bejabers out of Morgana." Arthur took hold of the front of Merlin's old leather jacket. "And get rid of this or I swear I will send you out shopping with Guinevere again. You're my sorcerer, not my servant, and I expect you to look the part." 

Merlin grimaced, "She's already ventured some ideas." 

Arthur laughed and turned him toward the door. Slapping Merlin on the back, he said, "Off you go. I'll expect your request at audiences this afternoon." When Merlin gave him a fearfully hangdog look, Arthur added, "And stop looking like your best friend just died." 

"No, he turned into a King instead," grumbled Merlin, but Arthur pretended not to hear. 

***************************

Merlin started off the morning writing Arthur's speeches, then spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon thinking how to fulfill Arthur's request and trying to stay out of the way. His passage through the corridors of the citadel to his room had cleared them; servants fading away into side corridors. Lords and knights stepped into other passages with their noses in the air as though they didn't see him and had always intended going that way, and perhaps some of them had, but every one he saw? It disturbed him so much that he felt unwelcome even in his own room, especially knowing that he'd be leaving it soon. It wasn't long before he decided he'd be better off in the hidden room in the library, surrounded by books of magic. He changed into the clothes he'd worn to Arthur's coronation and headed down to the library, trying hard to ignore the reactions he got on the way. The one comfort, if one could call it that, was that Geoffrey treated him exactly the same as always: like he was too young and careless to handle something as precious as a book. 

Finally finding his inspiration, Merlin slipped into the audience chamber only a few moments late. Not wanting to be disruptive, he stayed in the back, pressed against the wall and well hidden by the crush of Lords and knights present. 

Arthur stood before his throne, already arbitrating a case. "Lord Ahearn, my Father heard this complaint last year, I fail to see why I should retry it." 

Lord Ahearn bowed slightly at the shoulders. "My Lord, you have demonstrated that you have a far different attitude toward magic than did your late and lamented father. It is for that I bring this matter back to the royal attention." 

"Refresh my memory," said Arthur, waving one hand in annoyance, "what has magic to do with a river changing its banks?" 

"What has it not, my Lord? Overnight, nine acres are stolen from me by means of the changing of the boundary of my lands?" 

"Stolen?" thundered Lord Ogden. 

Arthur held up a hand to quiet him. 

Lord Ahearn drew a breath and lowered his eyes. "I do not accuse Lord Ogden of the theft, it was on that basis that your father refused to further hear my case, but who knows what could be in the mind of a sorcerer? Perhaps he merely meant to punish me and cared not who benefited from his action." 

"It was rain, you twat," seethed Lord Ogden, "rain stole your land and nature gave it to me. King Uther ruled it mine by right of the terms of my grant." 

"If it was taken by magic, then surely I am entitled to some compensation," insisted Lord Ahearn, straining against the temper burning his cheeks. 

"King Uther didn't think so," insisted Lord Ogden. 

"Uther wouldn't hear my case because he wouldn't hear a word of a noble of Camelot benefiting in any way from magic." 

"Enough!" said Arthur, annoyed. "Merlin! Oh, where is he? He's supposed to be here." 

"I'm here," called Merlin, working his way out from the corner he'd gotten himself into. The mass of the nobles turned to watch the sorcerer approach the throne, more than one needing to adjust the set of his shoulders, sending a ripple of visible unease through the crowd. 

Arthur sat down on his throne, a satisfied smile twitching his lips. "If you went up there, could you tell if the river had been moved by magic?" Arthur added as Lord Ogden started to splutter, "Just to put Lord Ahearn's mind at rest?" 

"I've already been, my Lord. King Uther was more concerned than he cared to show and asked for Gaius' opinion of the matter. Gaius sent me for water samples." Merlin turned to Lord Ahearn, "I'm sorry, my Lord, but I found only the signs that Gaius had told me would indicate a natural change of the watercourse, no signs of magic." 

Disappointment etched its way across Lord Ahearn's features, but he straightened and said, "I am somewhat comforted to know that my complaint was taken more seriously than I knew." Nodding to Arthur, he said, "I am satisfied, my King, and I withdraw." 

Lord Ogden huffed, "If I was being examined by a commoner, I should have had notice of King Uther's intentions." 

"Your pardon, my Lord, but I was examining the river, particularly on Lord Ahearn's side. I've been acting as Court Sorcerer for far longer than I've had the position," said Merlin. 

"By whose authority?" demanded Lord Agravaine, stepping from behind Arthur's throne. 

"Queen Ygraine's," answered Arthur. "My Mother set up the circumstances of my Sorcerer's appointment before I was born, for she meant me to have the protection of magic." 

Agravaine stared stunned at the King. "I can hardly see my sister betraying her Lord and husband in such a manner. I will not have her memory sullied by this sideshow magician." 

Arthur snapped angrily to his feet, facing down his uncle. "Merlin, was there something you wanted to see me about?" 

"Yes, Sire," said Merlin, suddenly aware that he needed to enforce Arthur's authority. "I've been looking over Camelot's magical defenses, as you asked, and I think the first priority has to be the gargoyles." 

"The gargoyles?" asked Arthur, turning to Merlin, but without so much as a flinch. Not so the audience, who shifted and murmured. "Need a good cleaning do they?" 

"No, Sire," continued Merlin. "When Cornelius Sigan returned to life through possession of a thief two years ago, he called the gargoyles to attack Camelot. They should be Camelot's protectors and certainly, if Camelot were attacked, I could call them into the battle. But since their last orders were to attack, I'm unsure which side they would take. I need to animate them - briefly - to ensure they know to take the proper side." 

"And you would do this when? Midnight?" asked Arthur. 

"No, Sire, an hour before dawn. The gargoyles will return to stone with dawn's light, so if anything should go wrong, there'd be only an hour needed to hold out. Many of the common people begin their work well before dawn though, Sire, so it would be safest if a curfew could be imposed in the hour while I did my work." 

"And is anything going to go wrong?" asked Arthur stolidly. 

Merlin hesitated, looking for just the right words. "Morgana is still free, my Lord. It's possible she could try to interfere with my magic. I prefer to take every available precaution." 

Arthur nodded, motioning Sir Leon to step forward. "See that the curfew is called for an hour before dawn and have the bells ring to signal its implementation and release. See that the guard is double for that hour and that every knight is awake and armored. I recall how much damage the gargoyles did in the space of a couple of hours. Merlin is right, this is not the sort of thing to take any chances with." Turning to Merlin, he added, "I trust that you have your own precautions in mind?" 

"Indeed, Sire, I'll be spending the rest of the day in preparation," confirmed Merlin, privately wondering what precautions he could take that would be effective against gargoyles. 

"Good." Arthur glowered over his shoulder. "As for your slander, Uncle, Mother couldn't have betrayed my Father by her orders as magic wasn't banned until her death. Surely you are not implying that it is a betrayal for a Queen to do everything in her power to assure the succession of the rightful heir?" 

"Arthur, I do not know, though I suspect," his eyes flicked at Merlin, "what has caused this division between us." 

"As to that, I have my own suspicions, Uncle. If correct, I do not think my Mother would approve of your current loyalties. I still have hopes that you will prove my doubts wrong." 

Agravaine smiled a rather breathless and fearful smile. "I can prove nothing, except through my service, Arthur. I hope that my actions may speak louder than gossip." 

The King pinned him with a steely stare, "I assure you, Uncle, they do." Arthur motioned him away and Agravaine took two steps back in a slightly bowed position. Arthur's glance fell on Merlin. "See to your preparations." In response, Merlin bowed much more deeply than Agravaine had. Arthur raised his voice, "And if any have further questions regarding issues of magic, they should consult my sorcerer - tomorrow." 

Merlin left in a silence that followed him through the door. He was quickly descending into the mire of his own thoughts when booted footsteps hurrying after him called his attention. Glancing over his shoulder in anticipation of a confrontation, Merlin sighed in relief to see Leon and Elyan and stopped to wait for his friends. 

Elyan looked a bit bemused but Leon frowned with severity. "Merlin," he said gruffly, "I remember the last time the gargoyles came to life. The knights could do nothing against them." 

"Don't worry, Leon, I'll keep control of them," Merlin assured him anxiously. 

"It's my job to worry. Arthur put me in charge of the army. If something goes wrong, I want the knights to be able to do more than retreat and pray the gargoyles don't knock the citadel to rubble." 

Merlin shook his head. "The worst that can happen is that they'll be active for an hour, they can't destroy the castle in that amount of time." 

"No, the worst that can happen is that Morgana manages to kill you and find some way to keep the gargoyles animated past dawn so they can have all the time they need to destroy Camelot." Merlin took a breath to say something but Leon interrupted him. "We should never have a plan where one man is so crucial that his death in battle will result in a rout. If nothing else, if something does go wrong, the knights need to be able to buy you some time to correct it." 

Merlin looked at his toes. "I don't know how the knights can help." 

Leon settled one hand on Merlin's shoulder then took hold of his chin and jerked it up. "Yes you do. You've been practicing with us. You know our abilities and you know the dangers we'll face tomorrow morning. You've been acting alone for too long. You're not used to thinking in terms of having allies. Think! The gargoyles are attacking and you need time to find a spell that will change their allegiance. What can the knights do besides retreat?" Leon released Merlin and stepped back, clearly expecting some brilliance. 

Merlin pressed the heel of his hand to his head, miserably wishing he had all the answers. "I don't know. Swords would be too short. Even if they were heavy enough to damage stone you couldn't avoid being grabbed. The gargoyles have too long a reach. And a crossbow wouldn't have enough impact." 

"What about a scorpio?" asked Elyan. 

"What's a scorpio?" asked Merlin, dropping his hand. 

"A small ballista, or an oversized crossbow on a stand, depending on how you want to see it," replied Elyan. "There are three of them in the armory, though none in good repair. I'll bet I could get at least one fixed in time by cannibalizing parts from the others. I don't think I can aim it well enough to be effective though." 

"Kirkley could," said Leon wryly, "if he can keep his nerves down. I'd rather have Rexford, but his leg is still mending. They could both work with you on the repair though." 

"One weapon won't be enough," worried Merlin. 

"The knights could carry war hammers instead of swords. Those could chip stone. And I've made several more morningstars. They're heavy enough." Elyan blushed. "I'd rather you not mention that to Arthur. I'm not sure how he'd react to a knight still working as a smith, but I'm not good enough to win ransoms in tourneys and I don't dare risk my own armor. Being a knight's expensive. When a few of the other knights asked, it seemed like a good way to earn a bit extra." 

"Arthur knows," Merlin negligently informed him. "Guinevere told him. He didn't seem bothered by it, but I'm sure he'll let you know if it's a problem." 

Elyan cringed but kept to the problem at hand. "Do the gargoyles actually fly? We could try grapples attached to chains to foul their wings." 

"Elyan, you're brilliant," said Merlin a bit dumfounded at how much the knight had been able to suggest in so short a time. 

"With weapons," confirmed Leon. "That's why I had him follow me." Leon waved a finger in Merlin's face. "You go make your plans, but I expect you to include the knights in them. I'll find you this evening if I don't see you sooner. In the meantime, we'll get started on Elyan's plans." 

"Yes, Sir Leon, and thank you," said Merlin in a small voice. As the knights walked away, Merlin thought about how different it was to actually have offers of help instead of having to hide his actions. 


	3. Chapter 3

Morgana pulled her hood further up over her hair, awaiting the signal. If they'd followed her orders, three of her mercenaries had entered the city separately earlier in the day. She'd had to race to arrive back in time for the appointed hour, but it had been worth it. She tugged once at the leather thong around her neck. Emrys had outmatched her too many times for her to feel herself safe and with Arthur on the throne, she had no doubt the traitor would become more brazen. She'd make the quisling pay for costing her the time to cast the precaution. 

Agravaine hadn't come out to her since her confrontation with Emrys. She'd had another of her mercenaries waiting for him and any message he might carry, but as far as she knew, the coward hadn't left the citadel. He had taken part in Arthur's coronation the day before, she was certain, but time had been against her and she'd had no time to scry the coronation much less disrupt it and still prepare her safeguard. She needed accurate information and the only way she was going to get it was to get inside the city walls and listen for herself. Surely Arthur had made some announcement by now. 

A guardsman stepped through the gate and swung a lantern to and fro. Morgana strode forward quickly. She hated depending on others, particularly those without magic of their own and especially when she had to pay them extra for the danger. All they had to do was take over one gate and hold it. She took no notice of the bloodied tear at the edge of the guardsman's tabard. It would do to hide her mercenary at a distance. He pulled the gate shut behind her. Though she didn't share Agravaine's love of gossip, it would serve her well enough this night. She stayed away from the better patrolled area of the city and headed to a tavern unlikely to host knights. The Truncheon and Axe didn't have a very good reputation. When she got there, she entered through the backdoor, under a stair where a woman with rather too little to her dress had a leg wrapped around a guardsman whose face was pressed too tightly to her breast to notice the sorcerer. Morgana stepped into a room filled with casks of brew and waited, knowing the tavern keeper wouldn't be long. To one side was a kitchen, but the elderly cook instantly looked away when she saw a figure waiting in the backroom and kept her eyes averted. Morgana peeked through the curtain separating the storeroom from the crowded common room, surprised to see so many so quiet. Whispers passed for words at every table. Even the game of dice in one corner seemed subdued. 

Morgana stepped back as a large bald man in a leather breastplate and apron headed toward her. His swift look up and down appraised her as he asked roughly, "Your business?" 

"To listen and not be seen," she answered, drawing back her hood and handing him a small bag of coins. 

Apparently this was not a unique request as the bag swiftly disappeared into the breastplate and the tavern keeper grabbed a small table and chair to set by the curtain. Morgana seated herself daintily as the man filled a pitcher with what was likely a better brew than he kept on tap in the common room. He set it before her with a pewter goblet before filling two plates from the stewpot and disappearing back to his customers. Mildly irked, she poured what turned out to be wine into her goblet. She sniffed it expecting it to be half vinegar and was pleasantly surprised to find it merely harsh but not over aged. She swirled her wine as she sat listening to the clink of tankards from the other side of the curtain. 

"Well, I say it's all to the good," insisted a sudden loud voice. "No, I won't be quiet. Magic's been gone from Camelot far too long and who's to be upset with me for saying so? Not the young King, surely, not with a sorcerer at his elbow. I'll speak as I please. It's you who'd speak against the sorcerer who've got to be quiet now." 

Surprised at the words, Morgana inclined her head enough to catch sight of the speaker through the crack in the curtain; a stout middle aged man in laborer's clothing. 

A pudgy young man nervously rose across the room. "I don't say anything against the sorcerer, mind. I'm not so much a fool as that. Sent my knees knocking, I don't mind telling you, at the coronation." 

"You were at the coronation?" asked a roughhewn man with salt and pepper hair. 

The young man nodded vigorously. "As many of us servants as could crowded into the back of the balcony. Coronations don't happen every day, you know. Quite a spectacle to see all the lords and knights taking their oaths, but then the King called the sorcerer up and made him take one too. And him not even gentry? The gentle folk didn't care much for that, I can tell you." 

"Heard tell one of the knights tried to kill him," drawled an older man with a pipe in his mouth. 

"You're not wrong," said the pudgy servant. "Weren't nothing to him either. He just caught the knife the knight threw, stopped it right in the air with his magic, and sent it back to him the same way." 

"The sorcerer killed a knight?" yelped a male voice who was out of Morgana's line of sight. 

"Nah," said the servant. "He floated it in the air right in front of Sir Tremayne and the King commanded the knight to take it back. King Arthur was right annoyed with Sir Tremayne for disrupting the proceedings like that." 

Morgana groaned softly. Her vision from weeks ago had come to pass but it had been Emrys Tremayne had thrown at, not Arthur. Not that she wouldn't have been nearly as jubilant if the blade had pierced the traitor sorcerer as if it had skewered her hated brother. 

The older man with the pipe spoke again, "Tremayne's lands enough, if it comes to that, I'd guess he'd not be too put off if the King sent him off." 

"Bite your tongue, old man," said the one with the salt and pepper hair. "Any knight would be furious to lose his place at court." 

"The King didn't though," said the servant hurriedly. "Sir Tremayne was at the banquet. Didn't please him any to see the sorcerer seated above him though. Kept shooting him glances that promised mayhem." 

"You don't mean to say King Arthur seated the sorcerer at the head table surely?" asked the nervous voice Morgana couldn't see. 

"Just below it," said the servant avidly. "Wasn't any of us wanted to go near him. Felton drew short straw, but the sorcerer frightened him so badly he wouldn't go back." 

"What'd he do to him?" asked salt-and-pepper hair. 

The servant snickered. "Said 'thank you,' if you'll believe that. But then he always did have a nice seeming. I suppose the habit's ingrained. But then Felton spilled wine all over him and he wasn't going to chance it further and no one would take his place." 

'Always did?' thought Morgana. This servant spoke as though he'd met Emrys before the coronation. Knew him even. If she got him alone… perhaps he'd be worth taking as he left the tavern. 

"You'd think that'd anger the sorcerer more than poor service," said the old man taking his pipe from his mouth. 

"Maybe," allowed the servant, shrugging uncomfortably, "but the King's manservant brought his food for him. That seemed to satisfy him." 

Morgana smirked. She could picture Merlin's determined face while he had to serve a real live sorcerer at Arthur's order. She hoped he'd run his smart mouth and gotten a taste of magic for his pains. A mock whisper came from the corner Morgana couldn't see. "Just shows how much influence the sorcerer has over our young King. Too much if you ask me. Might even be an enchantment." 

"Shut your mouth, Dermot," shouted the laborer who'd refused to be quiet earlier. "There's good sorcerers around too. Not all are of Lady Morgana's ilk." 

Morgana filed the man's face away in her memory for later punishment. 

"And maybe you're one of them?" insinuated Dermot. 

The laborer banged his tankard down on the table and moved toward the isolated corner. "And maybe I've seen a few die for their magic who would have defended Camelot had they been given the chance." 

Morgana leaned forward, eager to see the confrontation, but the door opened with a gust of wind and two knights blew in, their red cloaks swirling around them. She frowned and made sure her face was half in shadow despite the curtain already hiding her as the bartender made his way toward the newcomers. 

"Sirs?" frowned the big man as he inclined his head. "We've no trouble here, nor want any." 

"No trouble, friend," grinned Sir Gwaine, slapping two coins on the counter. "Just two pints of ale." 

The tavern keeper stared at the money for a moment before pushing it back to Gwaine. "Two pints of ale, Sir," he growled, tapping a keg behind the bar. Morgana smirked at the unsubtle hint. 

"Friendly place," said Gwaine, raising his tankard to Lancelot, who leaned on the bar. "Cheers." 

"Better a bar than a battle," said Lancelot, shifting so he could smile and nod to some of the other customers. 

"Begging milords' pardons," said a bright eyed man at a table near to the two knights. "We were just speaking of yesterday's coronation. If milords wouldn't mind, perhaps…" 

"Yesterday's coronation be damned!" yelled a youngish laborer jumping to his feet as his companions tried to hush him. "What's this about the sorcerer raising the gargoyles?" The bartender started around the bar with his truncheon in hand, but the man continued to yell at the knights, "I've littles at home. What's to stop the monsters from tearing the roof off my cottage?" 

Morgana sat forward again. This was information she could use. 

Gwaine took the bartender by the wrist just as he started to raise his cudgel. "Let the man speak," he said amiably. 

The look on the bartender's face was frightful indeed. "Aye, so you can haul him and any who dares agree off to gaol." 

"Not at all," said Gwaine, releasing the man's wrist and clouting him on the arm, in a friendly manner. "Do you think the King doesn't know how frightened the people are to have a sorcerer in the castle? No one is being arrested because they're scared." 

Lancelot stepped up beside Gwaine. "I was scared myself the first time I saw his magic, but I'd no complaints about the results as I was sure I was about to die and he gave me the victory instead. Saved a few lives at the same time - including the King's." 

"That's right," said the old man with the pipe, nodding sagely as though he heard every whisper in the town. "Saved the King a few times the way I hears it." 

"And many of the knights, including myself," added Sir Gwaine. "Uther too, more than once, though he'd not have been thanked for it." 

No, Uther would have thrown him on the pyre all the faster, thought Morgana. Who was this fool? 

"So he's been at it the whole time then?" asked the nervous voice, inching up into hysteria and finally stepping into Morgana's field of view; a scrawny weasely man with lank brown hair. "The whole time he's been here, been in the castle, been in our homes, who knows what he's been up to all that time?" 

Gwaine chuckled, "Oh, I think Gaius has a fair notion. And once we got him to open up, Merlin's told us plenty of stories." 

"With himself as the hero, no doubt," said the frightened young father. 

Lancelot smiled. "Actually, he usually tries to give the credit away and keep the blame for himself." 

Morgana smirked. That sounded like Merlin, the fool, but she wished they would get off this tangent and return to the subject of her nemesis. 

"Would it be too much to say, Sirs," asked the middle aged laborer shyly, almost worshipfully, "that the sorcerer might be as valiant as any knight?" 

"Not too much for me to say," Lancelot assured him. "I've seen his magic in battle enough times. It was the two of us who went up to the chapel to empty the Cup of Life. Morgana had that well guarded I can tell you. He had a sword with him that could kill Morgana's undead guards, but he had to use it and he's not that much of a swordsman. I had my work cut out keeping the others busy and only passing him one at a time, but somehow we got through the lot. They'd blow apart when he hit them and I'd have to tell by that sound that he was ready for the next because I had to keep him safe behind me." 

Morgana leaned forward, her teeth grinding, wishing for a way to get her hands around the knight's throat. 

The man with the salt and pepper hair had startled visibly. "But weren't you worried to have the sorcerer behind you, Sir?" 

Lancelot snorted with an amused smile. "No. We'd been friends for years and I'd known about his magic nearly all that time. You learn to trust someone quickly when they save your life." 

"That's why Arthur trusts him," added Gwaine. "That's why you can trust him. Someone mentioned he'd been in your homes. Has he ever done anything but good there?" 

Gazes slid from one to another, as if asking for someone to say something negative, but no one could come up with such a story. Behind the curtain, Morgana began to shake. Everyone (EVERYONE!) in that room knew Emrys. Everyone had met him. Any one of them could have pointed him out to her on the street, which he could walk down freely and she could not. She stroked the raised pattern of her healing bracelet, using it as a touchstone to try to calm herself, to stay in possession of her temper. 

The slight sound of a ladle clinking against a pot drew her attention to the old cook in the kitchen. Would even she know what Morgana most craved to know in all the world? Quietly, Morgana drew back her chair and approached the woman who was bending over the stewpot hanging over the fire. She'd no wish to alert the knights in the other room to her presence, but if she was only asking what everyone already knew, a bit of charm might work as well as any threat. 

"Old mother?" asked the witch sweetly, which startled the cook into dropping the ladle and peering around at the address. The older woman bobbed a curtsey and kept her head bowed in deference. Morgana kept her tone honeyed. "Who is the sorcerer that all the men are talking about in the other room?" 

"Em..Emrys," stammered the old woman. "That's what they call him now, isn't it?" 

Morgana stepped toward her prey, and took the woman's calloused hand in both of hers. "But he has another name, doesn't he? One that everyone knows?" 

"Please, Lady," begged the old woman breathily, "I've no wish to get in the middle of a sorcerers' war. Just keep my head down and the food hot, that's all I do." 

"But if everyone knows, how would he know it was you that told me?" asked Morgana sweetly before hardening her tone. "Besides, I am here and he is not." 

Morgana could feel the cook's shivering as she answered, "Merlin. The physician's boy. The King's servant." 

"You're lying," said Morgana furiously. 

The cook finally raised her eyes, and grated out, "Why would I lie, Lady, when a thousand tongues would tell you the same?" 

Morgana froze, certain the cook believed what she said to be the truth. Yet this was some trick, some blind. Oh, Arthur undoubtedly thought he was so clever, calling Merlin by Emrys' name while the real sorcerer hid in the shadows. The cook made a moan of pain and sank to her knees. Morgana realized she'd been squeezing the woman's hand and released her, deploring her own lack of self-control. Sharply, she commanded, "Tell me quickly, what has Emrys to do with the gargoyles?" 

The cook gave a little sob. "He's to bring them to life in the morning before dawn." 

"Why?" 

"I don't know, Lady, truly. It is the King's command. That's all I know." 

Morgana thought a moment. Gargoyles were creatures of the night and wouldn't stay awake past dawn, so why bring them to life then? To frighten the populace? Not a bad tactic, if Emrys could manage it. It would show his power; make most people less eager to rise against him, and Arthur. But if he had so much power, what hold had Arthur over him? If Emrys was truly Merlin… but no, what a ridiculous thought. Merlin was a dunderhead, a simpleton, a fool. Even in the unlikely event that he had some natural magical talent, he'd be terrified of it as she had been at first. He'd never learn to control it and certainly he'd not have anywhere near the level of power that Emrys had displayed. That Merlin would even have a spark of magic was outrageous. But maybe… he'd have to have some spark of magic to convince people he was Emrys. Was it possible that the traitor had taught Merlin some simple tricks with an eye to his becoming Emrys' front? Morgana shuddered. If so, her foe was more long-sighted than she'd cared to imagine. 

"You will say nothing of this," commanded Morgana, raising the hood of her cloak. The woman on the floor shook her head obediently. Morgana frowned at the thought of leaving a witness behind, but if she left a body, the bartender might be persuaded to raise the alarm, especially if she was a relation, which wasn't unusual in establishments such as this. Morgana strode away, considering what damage she could inflict if the gargoyles were at her command instead of her enemies'. A sob of relief from behind her as she pulled the door closed on her way out assured her of the old woman's silence. 

**************************

Merlin startled awake at the touch on his shoulder. Elyan knelt beside him, a candle in one hand lighting the darkness. The knight yawned, "I am going to sleep all day when this is over." 

Merlin scooted uncomfortably out from under the covers on the cold stone tower floor. Sir Marhaus had obeyed Arthur's order with alacrity and had the tower that had been used for storage cleared of its contents for Merlin's use. It had rained briefly during the night and the wooden roof access hatch had leaked, not for the first time from the looks of the water stain it bore but fortunately the semi-circular room was easily as large as Gaius' and Merlin had been able to ignore it by putting a small towel which now lay in a sodden heap beneath the drip to soften the sound. The fire in the fireplace had gone out and Merlin briefly considered lighting it, but decided they wouldn't be there long enough for it to matter. Besides, the wood would be wet and hard to light with flint and he was still shy of using his magic casually in front of anyone, even a knight he knew wasn't likely to flinch from it. Merlin could have slept the night in his bed at Gauis' but decided if he was moving out, he might as well get it over with, though most of his possessions were still there as he really had no place yet to put them. 

"Have you been awake all night?" Merlin asked the knight, his voice echoing slightly in the mostly empty space. "Leon chased me off to bed just after midnight." 

"Yes, but I'm just another knight in the battle, assuming there is one. You're the one who can prevent the battle in the first place." 

"You're hardly 'just another knight,' Elyan," said Merlin admiringly, pulling on his clothes and boots from the pile he'd left them in the night before. The shirt was rumpled, but Merlin didn't think that would matter with the leather vest laced around him and his cloak (which he'd used as an extra blanket last night) thrown over the top. "You should have been here for the last battle with the gargoyles. You've got the knights armed so thoroughly I'm not even worried about Morgana." 

"I hope it's enough," said Elyan. 

"It's only a precaution," Merlin reassured him. "For the knights to be needed, Morgana would have to be here, which she shouldn't be, and she'd have to have a spell prepared to interfere. Which would have to mean that she knew what I was going to do and how would she even have heard?" 

"Possibly because Arthur had it proclaimed in the town last night at sundown?" 

Merlin stopped in the act of tying the laces of his vest, paling ghostily in the candlelight. "He what?" 

"He had it proclaimed," repeated Elyan. "You didn't know?" 

"No," said Merlin finishing off his laces with his brow furrowed in worry. 

Elyan placed a hand on Merlin's arm. He recited, "In the hour before dawn the Court Sorcerer will animate the castle's gargoyles in a display of Camelot's magical defenses. The bells will ring to signal curfew at that time. Pay heed and remain within your homes and shelters. The curfew will lift at the second ringing of the bells." 

Merlin snorted. "He would have to make an announcement. Arthur's a little too free with information about my magic. At least he didn't say what I'm really doing with the gargoyles. At that, I'm surprised he didn't cause a riot." 

"That's why Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival and Kay made the rounds of the taverns and inns last night. They were there to reassure the populace that the sorcerer would have control of the gargoyles and the King had control of you." 

"I'd better have control of the gargoyles," said Merlin worriedly, "but if Morgana interferes…" 

"Which is why the knights are heavily armed," Elyan reassured him. "Speaking of, did you get them done?" 

Merlin picked up a small wooden crate from beside the hearth and showed it to the knight. "Two dozen crossbow bolts, spelled to produce a blindingly bright light on impact. It won't hurt the gargoyles, but it should confuse them." 

"Brilliant!" enthused Elyan. Seeing that Merlin's hands were full, he asked, "Do you need anything else?" 

"My staff," said Merlin, nodding toward where the ornate staff rested against the side of the fireplace mantle. 

"Magic staff?" asked Elyan. 

"Yeah," said Merlin, wondering if that was going to be a problem. 

"In that case, I'll carry the box," said Elyan wrapping one arm around it and pressing it up against his side so he could carry it one handed. 

Surprised by the offer, Merlin picked up his staff and followed the knight down the curving tower stairs. 

As they reached the upper level, Elyan said, "I'll take these to the archers on the rampart. Arthur is waiting for you in the courtyard." 

"All right," said Merlin, his nerves jumping. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his hair in an unconscious wish to hide before he hurried alone down empty stairways into the brazier lit yard where knights milled, awaiting action. Several turned at the sorcerer's appearance and two openly stared. 

"Finally!" called Arthur, catching sight of the sorcerer hastening to meet him. "Merlin, are you ever on time?" 

"Only when I'm saving your life apparently," quipped Merlin, knowing the King couldn't possibly have been waiting more than a few minutes. He strode to the center of the courtyard to stand beside his Lord. 

The King was standing at the top of the main stair with Gwaine and Lancelot. He had his sword in hand and turned the blade to catch the light from the flames as his sorcerer approached. "Excalibur," he said, nodding toward the blade with a small smile. 

"What?" asked Merlin. 

"It's a fine name, Sire," said Lancelot, but his eyes tried to catch the sorcerer's. 

"You named it?" asked Merlin, mildly incredulous. 

Arthur snorted happily. "You have to learn to understand warriors better, Merlin. A fine blade like this deserves a fine name. What do you think?" 

Merlin bit down on his first thought and smiled tolerently. "I think we only have an hour until dawn." 

Arthur gave him a sharp look and raised Excalibur high; signaling a sentry in the bell tower and the bells tolled the sequence for curfew. Guardsmen had already been placed throughout the town to see the signal was obeyed and would get under cover themselves once their assigned streets were clear. "Ready?" he asked. 

Merlin bowed his head, conscious of the need to demonstrate that his magic was being wielded under Arthur's authority. "By your leave?" 

"Form up!" commanded Arthur loudly. Instantly, the knights moved to join up with the partners they had chosen earlier, one half of each pair with war hammers shouldered and ready to swing, the other carrying a massive shield. Arthur alone carried a sword, but then, Excalibur's magic would protect him better than any other weapon. Cadby ran to bring the King his shield and then retreated into the castle. Arthur nodded at Merlin and assented, "Proceed." 

Merlin raised his staff before planting it firmly, as much for its assistance in holding himself steady as for the boost it would give his magic, and chanted a spell in a loud but low growling voice. His eyes flashed and the sound of stone breaking away from stone could be heard throughout the courtyard. As the gargoyles began climbing down the walls, several knights swore and at least three crossed themselves. Merlin raised his staff high and began a second spell, calling the gargoyles' attention. Their faces turned toward him even as they screamed challenge to his right to command them. One launched itself into the air. Merlin's eyes burned gold and his voice cracked with the whip of authority. The flying gargoyle landed mid-courtyard facing the sorcerer and tilted its head as though trying to decide whether to bow or charge. 

Suddenly a second voice echoed around them in an ancient language. No one could mistake Morgana's imperious tones or the venom in her intonation. The lead gargoyle put his head down and roared at the sorcerer. 

Merlin tapped the butt of his staff on the flagstones, momentarily flooding the courtyard with light, and repeated his spell putting every ounce of authority he could command into his voice, Morgana's voice warring with his. The gargoyle reared back, struggling within the battling enchantments seeking to control it. "It's not working! It's not enough!" Merlin breathlessly told his sovereign. 

"Well, think of something, Merlin," commanded Arthur. Signaling to the ramparts, he called, "Archers!" A moment later a series of shots exploded as archers fired in turn to keep the distracting light going as long as possible. A larger bolt cracked the wing of one gargoyle. It screamed as it dropped through the air and slowed its fall by sloughing great cracks in the outer wall with its fingernails. Two pairs of knights closed like curtains to protect King and sorcerer from the advance of the lead gargoyle, which growled and swung its head as though trying to clear it. 

Merlin's voice snapped out, commanding the gargoyles with every bit of dominance he had, Morgana's tone a counterpointing sneer. Arthur's eyes searched the courtyard and beyond. The King roared, "Someone find me that witch!" 

The gargoyles lashed out blindly at the forces battling for dominance, reeling drunkenly in their struggles. One fell off the wall. A second crashed into the shield held by Sir Coel, knocking the knight off his feet and the shield from his arm. Sir Peredur swung his hammer in an attempt to protect his fellow knight from the gargoyle's inebriated writhing. Though the hammer chipped the stone, it made no impact on the gargoyle's sense of survival, for it was completely out of what little mind it had. 

Merlin waved a hand, covering the stunned Sir Coel with his lost shield, just as the heedless gargoyle tripped over the fallen knight and went sprawling. "We're too equally matched," said Merlin as the knights began to close with the gargoyles. 

"Find something that's stronger!" ordered the King, stepping in front of Merlin, his shield raised against the gargoyles advance. 

Merlin bewilderedly looked at Arthur before breaking into a grin. "You are." Arthur started to step away from Merlin to command the battle, but the sorcerer briefly caught his elbow to keep him back. "You know your lineage, don't you? The kings your mother descended from?" 

"This isn't the moment, Merlin," said Arthur, his gaze pinned to the gargoyle that had decided to go for Lancelot and Gwaine as Merlin's attention wavered from maintaining his spell. Lancelot blocked the swing with his shield as Gwaine swung his hammer overhand, chipping the stone of the gargoyle's shoulder. The monster threw back his head and screamed. 

"Do I have to go find Geoffrey and drag him out here?" questioned Merlin. 

Arthur glanced between his sorcerer and the battle, knowing he had to choose and the wrong choice would end in a victory for Morgana, even if it wasn't a decisive one. Arthur took a half step back, trusting his knights to delay the gargoyles who were slowly regaining their senses and beginning to make a more concerted attack. The tenor of Morgana's amplified voice rose in anticipated triumph. 

"My lineage?" asked Arthur impatiently, irritated to be kept out of the battle. He began," Ygraine, Amlawdd," 

"Hold that thought," interupted Merlin. Again he turned toward the courtyard and shouted a spell, then rolled his hand at Arthur for him to say it again. 

"Ygraine, Amlawdd, Idwal," chanted Arthur, Merlin repeating a beat behind him, "Cadwaladyr, Cadwallawn, Cadvan, Iago, Beli, Run, Maelgwn Hir, Urien, Morgant Mawr, Sadyrnin, Gwenddoleu, Erydon, Ardderyd, Brutus." 

"There!" said Merlin. "That should do it." 

"So tell them to stop attacking!" 

"You tell them," said Merlin, grinning smugly. "They'll obey you now better than they will me." 

Arthur glared at his sorcerer briefly. He raised Excalibur high in the air and roared out, "Gargoyles of Camelot, obey me! Heed me and pay me homage." 

The gargoyles turned stone heads at Arthur's command. They left off their attacks on the knights; one to the point of ignoring the loss of a wing to a hammer strike. The gargoyles dropped from the wall and the one already in the courtyard advanced, ignoring the knights in front of it. 

"Let them pass!" called Merlin. 

"Are you sure?" asked Gwaine. 

"Positive," said Merlin over the frantic rise of Morgana's chanting. 

The knights parted and the lead gargoyle advanced to within its arm's reach of the King, where it dropped to one knee. The rest of the gargoyles fanned out behind it, each making its own obeisance. 

Arthur proudly observed the kneeling gargoyles and spared an approving glance for his sorcerer. 

Merlin murmured a quiet spell and then called out, his voice magically magnified, "You may be a High Priestess, Morgana, but I serve the Rightful King!" 

Morgana appeared on the city wall above one of the nearby gates. She screamed out her frustration, fires lighting magically in the thatch of roofs nearby. Merlin cried out a spell, gathering storm clouds above him. 

"Take the imposter Queen!" Arthur commanded the gargoyles. 

Those that could still fly jumped into the air leaving divots in the flagstones, those that could not lumbered in the direction of the gate, knights following. Morgana took one look at the gargoyles massing toward her and dissipated in a howling gale; the fabric of her skirts forming threatening tendrils in the whirling wind before following their mistress. The flying gargoyles flocked around the gate tower, crying frustration. 

"Where did she go?" demanded the King of his sorcerer. 

Merlin rolled his eyes in irritation. "Could be anywhere," he replied. Sighing he said, "I shouldn't do this, but might as well." He stretched up a hand and growled a spell at the clouds above. A light rain began to fall and quell the fires Morgana's ire had touched off. 

"So she can disappear and reappear anywhere now?" seethed Arthur. 

"Oh," said Merlin, turning his attention to his monarch, "no. It's a set spell. She can disappear from anywhere, but she can only reappear one place, wherever she set the spell." 

"So if we can find her bolthole, we can ambush her? Good," said Arthur, satisfied. Raising Excalibur again, he cried out, "Gargoyles of Camelot, return to your rest until you are needed again!" He watched with pride as the gargoyles flew to their perches or stalked to the walls to climb the heights. 

"Got used to that quick enough," muttered Merlin. 

The knights flooded back into the courtyard their voices raised in a triumphant cry and Arthur raised his arms to receive their accolades, reveling in the victory despite the rain. Merlin began to back away, bowed slightly, his cloak falling to cover him, trying to blend into the background as he had as a servant. 

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Arthur sharply. 

Merlin shrugged. "Back to my chambers, I suppose." 

"Nonsense," said Arthur, sheathing his sword. "It's time for breakfast." He passed his shield over to Percival and slung an arm around Merlin's shoulders, towing him up the castle steps as he ordered Leon to find out how many were dead in the gatehouse Morgana had occupied. 

Merlin peered over his shoulder, gauging the knights' reactions and barely registering where they were headed until Arthur tugged him through the door into the crowded knights' hall. Merlin banged one knee on a bench left askew. Arthur commandeered a seat near the sideboard, which looked like it might collapse under the number of dishes laid out there. Knights swirled noisily into the room, going around the sorcerer to line up at the sideboard or take places at tables if they had servants to wait on them. 

"Well, what are you standing there for?" asked Arthur jovially, slapping the bench next to him. "Have a seat." 

Cadby finished filling two plates and brought them to the table, setting one in front of Arthur and the other in front of the place Arthur had just indicated belonged to Merlin. This seemed to be the signal for the knights to attack the breakfast feast. 

Still in shock to be seated in the knights' hall, Merlin crawled over the bench. He hissed, "Arthur, what are you thinking?" 

The King just smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye. 

**********************

Arthur was wondering if Merlin could have possibly have been born more contrary. He had planned this. Victory and a breakfast feast would set the knights in an easygoing mood. Merlin would have his triumph and then join in with the knights. While he wouldn't be one of them, they would accept him as an equal. Except that the sorcerer looked like a deer who'd just scented hunters and was trying to decide which way to run. The knights were boisterous with their victory. Were sorcerers so different? Or was it just that Merlin always had to be difficult? 

Cadby walked over with two laden plates, the other servants having made way for the King's manservant, though some had grumbled when he'd filled the second plate. Merlin started when the second plate slipped into place in front of him. 

Arthur slapped Merlin on the back and then kept his hand on his sorcerer's shoulder to indicate his approval of Merlin's performance in the courtyard as he called greetings and compliments to his knights through the general hubbub. 

Sir Coel walked up to them and bemusedly stared down at Merlin for a long moment, the sorcerer returning the knight's stare with wide eyes. Arthur practically held his breath as he watched their interaction. Sir Coel slowly raised a hand and patted Merlin's shoulder, almost as one might pat a dog. The knight walked away without a word. 

Arthur leaned in close to Merlin. "You see? They're getting used to you." Arthur squeezed Merlin's shoulder before dropping his hand away. 

Merlin managed a rather sickly smile in his King's direction before dropping his eyes to his plate, but he made no move to eat. 

Elyan dropped into the seat across from Merlin and Gwaine crowded in at the sorcerer's side, deliberately jostling him as he did so. Merlin had to grab the table to keep from being pushed into Arthur. 

A plate landed between Merlin's and Gwaine's and then a large set of hands wrapped around Gwaine, yanking him to his feet, and shoving him over a space. "You're a pest," said Percival, climbing over the bench between them. 

"Hey!" protested Gwaine. "Merlin's my best mate, not yours." 

"Having you for a best mate must be a little like having an overly affectionate mastiff. Let the man eat. He worked hard enough for it," said Percival before stuffing a heaping forkful into his own mouth. 

"No one appreciates me," complained Gwaine good-naturedly. 

Lancelot took the seat next to Elyan just as Leon arrived with his report. "Three dead in the guard tower, Sire, including Captain Saul. He was one of my best." 

Arthur grimaced. "We have to find a way to neutralize Morgana, not just hold out against her." 

"I'm working on it," mumbled Merlin, still not looking up. 

"I know," said Arthur determinedly, slapping Merlin on the back again. "I have every confidence you'll defeat her eventually." 

"If you're so sure of Merlin then why did you put him in the tower?" asked Elyan, taking another bite of the excellent breakfast but scowling mildly at his monarch. 

"What's wrong with a tower?" asked Arthur around a bite of sausage. "Gaius' chambers are in a tower." 

"I mean your dungeons are drier and in better repair," answered the knight reprovingly, "though I'll admit, they're not much less bare. At least the dungeons have straw on the floor for bedding." 

Arthur looked mortified but Merlin quickly leaned toward the knight. He whispered, "It's fine, Elyan, really." 

"No, it's not," answered the knight. 

"I'm not complaining," said Merlin, looking down at his plate. 

"As well you should not," said Arthur briskly. Merlin's face colored and Elyan's lips tightened in a rare anger as Arthur waved at a knight from the next table to attend him. "Sir Marhaus, are you trying to embarrass me?" asked the King lightly as the older knight approached. 

"Certainly not, Sire," responded the knight, shock widening his eyes. 

Arthur cocked his head at the elder knight. He needed to take care not to destroy the celebratory mood in the room, but ignoring the problem could do that as surely as mishandling it. "Lord Arundel wants to interview Merlin on a number of questions regarding magic and I have no doubt he's not the only one. I already wrote to King Olaf explaining that Merlin is Emrys and if he does not have a representative on the way within an hour of receiving my letter, I'll be shocked. Is it your opinion that the quarters you've assigned my sorcerer are appropriate to hold such audiences?" 

Chagrin tightened Sir Marhaus' shoulders. "I had assumed that the Court Sorcerer would see to whatever furnishings…" 

"Merlin is only newly come to his rank," interrupted Arthur, keeping his tone light. "It may take him a while to get everything sorted but when I asked you to see to Merlin's new accommodations, I would have thought a bed would be considered an essential piece of furniture and I would be embarrassed if an officer of my court couldn't offer a High Lord so much as a chair." 

"My apologies, Sire," cringed Sir Marhaus. "It's been many years since we've had a court sorcerer." 

Arthur nodded agreeably. "Perhaps I was not clear in my intentions. I'm not knighting Merlin because his duties will be substantially different, but his rank should be considered equivalent to a knight's, for what I hope would be obvious reasons. The knights' quarters are all furnished, if somewhat sparsely. I assumed you'd see to it he had similar." 

Marhaus' shoulders jumped uncomfortably. "I could move him to the knights' hall, if you wish, Sire." 

That caused some muttering at the surrounding tables. Scrapes of conversation tickled Arthur's ear but the most telling was, "Would you want to bout with him?" 

Arthur smiled at Marhaus. "Magic has different requirements than soldiery. Merlin has no need to be near to the armory and he may well be receiving winged visitors. I think the tower is an inspired place to put him. He's going to need a good strong lock on his door as well, as I'm reasonably certain he'll beg for some of the magical items out of the vaults sooner or later and I'll want them kept secure." 

"That seems wise, Sire," said Marhaus, his eyes darting uncomfortably as he considered the requirements of magic. 

"Apologies accepted," said Arthur airily. "See to it that Merlin has the use of an appropriate office to receive such dignitaries as request his attention until there's time to sort out his own quarters." 

"Of course, Sire," said Sir Marhaus, looking rather flummoxed. "I'm sure something can be arranged. Would this afternoon be acceptable?" 

"Capital," agreed Arthur, smiling his approval and waving the seneschal on his way. 

Merlin leaned closer to Arthur as the knight scowlingly returned to his breakfast. Keeping his voice low, he said, "Arthur, even if Marhaus supplies a bed and chairs, I don't have the money to fix up that room so it's suitable to receive foreign dignitaries." 

"Sure you do," said Arthur, clapping his sorcerer on the shoulder. "I just haven't given it to you yet." 

Merlin closed his eyes. "Arthur, I don't want you to give me money I haven't earned." 

"This is your back pay," said Arthur, a twinkle in his eyes. 

Merlin's eyes flew open. He asked incredulously, "Back pay?" 

"You've been using magic to protect Camelot since the first week you were in the castle." 

"Well, yes, but…" 

"You used magic to drop that chandelier on the witch that impersonated Lady Helen didn't you?" 

"Well, yes…" 

"And you're the reason those snakes jumped out of Sir Valiant's shield prematurely so I could hack their heads off?" 

"Yeah…" 

"And why do I think it wasn't me that killed the Questing Beast, seeing as how I have no memory of striking that blow?" 

"Umm…" 

Arthur drew an annoyed breath at the non-answer. "Lancelot's said that you killed the griffin, which had already defeated and would have killed myself and several more knights in this room." 

"Too true," agreed Lancelot heartily. 

"In other words, you've been taking on and defeating enemies of Camelot for years now, as many or more than most of my knights, and only getting paid as a servant," Arthur said as he shook a finger in admonition at his sorcerer. "I made a promise that I would treat you justly. A knight's stipend is what you deserve and you shall have it." 

"When did you decide this?" asked Merlin, flustered. 

"Shortly after I asked you to destroy a field full of straw men and you managed it in less time than it would have taken a squad of knights. I just didn't give it to you because I knew you wouldn't have a clue what to do with it. I'm not giving it to you now either," he said, digging back into his breakfast. 

"You're not?" asked Merlin suspiciously. 

"No, I'm not," said Arthur decidedly. "We've discussed this before, Merlin. You have no taste. I'm giving your money to Guinevere. You can have what's left of it once she's set your quarters to rights." 

"Arthur!" protested Merlin, mortified. 

Gwaine started laughing. Percival wrapped his arms around the sorcerer, roughing him up and messing up his hair. Merlin made noises of protest as Arthur surreptitiously watched the reactions of the knights at the neighboring tables. Many looked anxious at the playful display, no doubt expecting Merlin to respond with magic, but they relaxed as the big knight released the sorcerer unscathed. 

"Why do you do that?" asked Merlin, trying to fix his unfixable hair. 

Percival grinned. "Sometimes you remind me of my little brother, Dornar. Scrawny prickly little weed he was, but full of surprises." 

"I'm not prickly," grumped Merlin. 

"You are when you're hungry and you're still not eating," Lancelot informed him pushing the sorcerer's plate at him. He teased, "Don't tell me all that magic doesn't take up energy." 

"It does," agreed Merlin weakly, as he pushed the sausages around on his plate before finally digging in as though suddenly afraid someone would snatch the plate away. 

"Merlin, this isn't like you," said Arthur sternly. "Magic is legal, you're Court Sorcerer now, you've got your friends around you, you've got everything you ever wanted. Why are you sulking?" 

Merlin appeared thoughtful at the question. "Not everything, Sire. Morgana still threatens Camelot. And I never wanted to be Court Sorcerer. That was your idea." 

Arthur stared at him. "You really would prefer to still be washing my socks, wouldn't you, Merlin?" 

Merlin lowered his eyes. He murmured, "At least it's something I know how to do." 

Arthur knocked against the sorcerer, rocking him. "Merlin, you lazy lump, you are going to be the greatest Court Sorcerer Camelot has ever had and you will settle Morgana as well. In the meantime, take victories where you can get them. But just to keep you humble… Cadby!" 

"Sire?" asked the servant, approaching his master. 

Arthur motioned his servant to lean closer. "You can wash the rest of my laundry, but see that Merlin gets the socks once a week." 

"You prat," spat Merlin. 

"Oh, now there's the spark I've come to expect," drawled the King, chucking his sorcerer under the chin. "One would think commanding gargoyles and defeating evil sorcerers takes all the spirit out of you." 

Merlin explained sourly, "I'm not a knight, Arthur. I've never wanted to fight. I fight to protect you and Camelot, not to revel in it." 

Elyan paused in spreading jam on another piece of bread. "Are you saying that it's wrong to celebrate a victory?" 

"No, of course not," said Merlin, dropping his eyes again. 

Gwaine grinned at the sorcerer sympathetically. "You've just not had anyone celebrate one of yours before." He leaned around Percival and pinched Merlin, making the sorcerer jump. "Not a dream, mate. You won't wake up." 

"Are you sure?" asked Merlin, his eyes haunted. "Because it's a bloody good dream." 

"Then try to enjoy it," said Percival, ruffling the sorcerer's hair again. 

Ducking away from him, Merlin exclaimed, "Percival, I swear if you do that again, I'm going to find a spell to grow your hair out long and braid it while you sleep." 

Smothered chuckles sounded from the tables nearest at the threat and Arthur glanced around at his knights with an approving grin. 

Percival laughed. "I'm the oldest of eight siblings. I've had worse tricks played on me." 

"Yeah?" asked Merlin, finally seeming to relax. 

Arthur watched the banter continue, tensions in the room easing as Merlin chatted, kidded, and finally even laughed with his knights. Though there was more reserve around the edges of the room, Arthur could see the beginnings of acceptance in the majority of his men. Only one was conspicuous by his absence, but then, there always had to be at least one dissenter, didn't there? Arthur shook his head, refusing to let minor details derail his enjoyment of an excellent breakfast. 

********************************* 

A pentagram anchored by five white stones brightened to the orange of flames on the forest floor in front of Morgana's hut as the witch appeared atop it and fell to her knees exhausted. For a moment she could do nothing but kneel, panting and shivering from her escape, her mind filled with only one face, her nemesis. Merlin! Not some mythical sorcerer, but a friend, once, who she'd trusted with her secrets and who'd betrayed her in every way possible. She'd contested with him, knowing and unknowing and he'd hidden his secrets behind a mask of foolishness and sympathy so complete that only his triumphant voice declaring himself on the side of the rightful King had finally convinced her that the clumsy servant was truly the formidable sorcerer Emrys. 

She threw back her head and screamed out her frustration; her magic creating an invisible gale that shook the trees. Branches thrashed and new leaves fell. Cracks sounded around her as breaks formed among the foliage. 

Morgana allowed her head to fall forward in defeat and the brightness of the pentagram faded out of existence, anchored only by the white stones and hidden by the forest floor. How could she not have known? A powerful sorcerer living in her castle, her home, how could she not have recognized him for what he was? That dopey, dingy mask he cultivated was even more effective than hers as the loyal ward. And yet he'd dropped it a few times; when he'd survived to destroy the mandrake root, when he'd faced her to destroy the rowan staff, when he'd poisoned her! He'd been there when Morgause had died and his disguise had been so complete she'd not even realized then that it was he who must have killed her. The knight on the floor, old Gaius even had seemed a better candidate for her sister's murderer. Not daffy, ridiculous Merlin! 

Morgana struggled to her feet, anger burning her sight red. Well, she was fooled no more. The traitor had revealed his true nature, or more likely her foolish brother had. Arthur never was good with secrets. That would be his undoing. Her nemesis could now operate without hiding his secrets, but that would mean his secrets would be hers for the taking. Open warfare suited Morgana, she decided, better than hiding in shadows. She stepped into her hovel, intending it to be for the last time, and began to pack what was most necessary. She'd need a keep, for starters and there were a few untenanted that might serve her purpose. She'd need an army. And when she'd defeated Arthur and regained her rightful place on Camelot's throne, she'd burn the deceiver on the most spectacular pyre Camelot had ever seen. Really, it was the only fit punishment for a recreant enchanter. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I always wait until I have the individual stories in rough draft before I start posting them. And I thought Public Eye was ready to go. Until I realized that the first chapter in the next story didn’t work there and would have to be the last chapter in Public Eye. That necessitated moving some things from this chapter to the next one… and then moving them back again and adding other things. Honestly, my writing process would make you cry. But I think I’ve got it sorted now.

Sir Marhaus, still dressed in his armor from the morning, pushed the warped wooden door open but had to shove it to open it fully. "That will probably have to be completely replaced," he frowned as he bowed slightly and motioned his companion inside. 

"Merlin?" called Gwen as she stepped over the threshold of his quarters. "You could have knocked," she reproved Sir Marhaus. 

Stuffily, the knight replied, "I assure you my Lady I saw the sorcerer leave only a moment before you arrived. He knows I'm here to look over his accommodations as the King directed." 

Gwen merely hummed in displeasure at the tangle of blankets on the floor between the window and the fireplace where Merlin had obviously been sleeping. A wooden crate contained some of his clothes, though not most of the better ones that were probably still in the wardrobe at Gaius'. Two books lay piled on the fireplace mantle, a banked fire in the grate, and an ornate staff leaned against it. Gwen lay her hand on the wood of the mantelpiece as she took in the overall state of the room. 

"Probably best not to touch the staff," warned Sir Marhaus uncomfortably. "The sorcerer was using it this morning to control the gargoyles." 

Gwen coolly regarded it a moment before fixing Sir Marhaus with a reproving stare. "I doubt it's the only magical item likely to be housed in this room." 

Marhaus bounced once on his toes. "So his Highness mentioned. I can move a bed up here from one of the guest rooms easily enough, but cupboards are going to have to be built for any magical items King Arthur authorizes from out of the vaults." 

"And stairs," said Gwen, looking up at the leaky wooden trapdoor to the roof about two thirds of the way across the ceiling from the door. 

Sir Marhaus huffed. "I should think a ladder would suffice." 

"For the King?" asked Gwen. "Sooner or later, there'll be a reason for Merlin to take Arthur up there, I've no doubt." 

Marhaus tilted his head in thought. "Right, stairs. Well thought, Lady Gwen, though it will block the light from the back window and that's where you'd get the most sun." He looked around the dimensions of the room. "A conference table large enough for perhaps six, here?" He asked her, motioning under the right hand window. "If more seating is needed I suppose a larger room could be made available downstairs." 

"I would think six would be adequate," Gwen approved. "Were you planning to move one of the canopied beds or a knight's cot up here?" 

Marhaus shuffled uncomfortably. "Since the room is to be used for audiences, I thought a canopied bed would be more suitable, though as the King has stated the sorcerer's rank is to be analogous to a knight's I have to keep within those bounds. There's one that's fairly plain and rather blocky that I've been meaning to change out for a while. A couple of iron rings attached to one of the posts could keep the wizard's staff close at hand, if you think that would be advisable." 

Gwen's eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's quite generous, Sir Marhaus." 

Marhaus lost nothing of his stiffness. "A knight sleeps with his weapon at hand. I should think a wizard might do the same." 

"I'm not so sure about iron though," said Gwen carefully. "In some stories iron isn't exactly friendly to magic." 

The knight nodded sharply. "Of course. The wizard should most certainly be consulted." 

Gwen smiled. "I'll ask him. You'll have the window and the trapdoor fixed?" 

"The castle carpenter can see to the trapdoor. What's wrong with the window?" 

Gwen moved toward the leaded glass window to her left, kicking the blanket on the floor slightly out of her way. "Well, it's… that's odd. The last time I was up here, it was cracked. I'm sure of it." 

Sir Marhaus examined the glass distastefully. "It looks sound now. Perhaps the sorcerer repaired it." A thought struck the knight and he strode under the trapdoor, craning his head up to examine the wood. "One would think the dripping would have bothered him more than a draft." 

"Maybe glass is easier to fix by magic than wood," suggested Gwen, slightly irritated by the knight's attitude. 

"Perhaps," allowed the knight. "In any case, Malgwyn Carpenter isn't going to be pleased to spend days in this room fixing it up for a sorcerer." 

"I'm surprised you'd concern yourself with a servant's feelings." 

Sir Marhaus startled and stared at her hawkishly. "Lady Gwen, did I ever mistreat you while you served in the castle?" 

Gwen blushed and looked down, much as she might have done had the seneschal ever addressed her in that manner while she'd been a servant. "No, of course not." 

The knight nodded and continued his examination of the trap door. "I've been Uther's seneschal for more than a decade. I may not always appear sympathetic but I assure you one does not successfully run a castle without learning the peculiarities of key personnel. I challenge you to find a decent cook in any castle without a temper, for instance." He looked at her with the slightest smile twitching his lips. "I'd bless you forever could you do so, I assure you. Skilled craftspeople are to be treasured and handled with all the care one would lavish on a warhorse." 

Gwen made a small noise of objection. 

Marhaus gave her a slight smile. "You may take that as high praise coming from any knight, Lady. A good warhorse is as dangerous as the knight riding him and as likely as the knight next to one to save one's life in battle. Mine has. Malgwyn is a finely skilled carpenter but he about goes into hiding anytime a sorcerer is reported loose in the city. He's also quite zealous about building the platforms for the execution of any sorcerer who's caught. I can't think he'll be pleased to assist this one." 

Gwen gulped at the foul taste that suddenly seemed to have taken over her mouth. "I'm sure he'll do as you order, Sir Marhaus." 

"Eventually," said Marhaus softly. Coming to stand directly in front of her, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Malgwyn is hardly the only servant in this castle who's having fits at the thought of a sorcerer living under the roof they work under. Getting workers up here is going to require my constant attention." 

"Attention you can hardly spare?" asked Gwen bitterly, wondering what it was the seneschal wanted from her. 

"I do have the rest of the castle to run, Lady," said Marhaus respectfully. "But the King has given me an order and I will see it done. Still, I would hope to find some way to soothe the fears of those who must work under the sorcerer's eye." 

Gwen's hands fluttered against her skirts recognizing the hint for the request it was. She glanced briefly at the window. "There's good light through that window. If it would allay concerns, Sir Marhaus, I believe I could bring my sewing up here while the workers are here. I don't think Merlin would mind and he certainly doesn't frighten me." 

"Excellent!" said Sir Marhaus with a broad grin. "I won't presume on your generosity unless it's necessary, of course. The offer alone may be enough reassurance." 

"The King's word should be enough reassurance," said Gwen, wondering if Marhaus' stuffiness was rubbing off on her. 

"It should," agreed Marhaus, "but people do not put aside their fears easily." 

Remembering her own initial reactions to Merlin's magic, Gwen winced. "No, they do not. We'll have to help them." 

Marhaus raised an eyebrow at her. 

Gwen's back straightened. "Is it not your duty to help with the transition?" 

Marhaus' mouth flattened out to a tight line. "Indeed." 

Gwen ducked her head slightly. "My apologies, Sir Marhaus. I'm sure you need no reminders of your duty." 

"Nor you yours," he answered stiffly. Then he seemed to unbend a little. "Lady Gwen, I've always found you to be sensible and a hard worker and I believe you have the respect of the servants. I can reassure them they'll be in no danger from the sorcerer, but yours is an example they may follow." 

"Merlin wouldn't hurt anyone," Gwen said quickly. 

"I believe that's untrue," said Marhaus sternly. "According to Sir Leon and some of the things I overheard the King say at breakfast, he's actually quite a fighter. But I am relieved that he hasn't ever evinced much display of temper. I doubt we'll be cleaning up corpses unless he's actually attacked and I can't blame a man for defending himself." Marhaus snorted. "He could have killed Tremayne at the coronation. It would have been justified. That he merely returned Tremayne's dagger was actually rather gentlemanly." 

"Merlin has a good heart," affirmed Gwen. 

A knock at the door interrupted them and Elyan stuck his head in through the doorway. "Ready when you are, Gwen." 

"I think we're done here." Gwen glanced around at the room. "Merlin needs about everything." 

"Including a bed?" asked Elyan raising an eyebrow at Sir Marhaus as he stepped over the threshold. 

Sir Marhaus stiffened under his regard but he glared back at the other knight. "My apologies if my arrangements did not meet with your approval, Sir Elyan." 

"Sir Marhaus is actually being fairly generous with the furnishings," Gwen quickly assured her brother. 

"Just so it gets taken care of," said Elyan relaxing slightly. "Merlin won't ask for anything. He'd of slept in the stable if that's where you'd put him." 

Marhaus shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "I certainly should have had a cot sent up at the least. An oversight on my part that won't be repeated." 

Gwen stepped forward and took her brother by the arm. "We'd best get going. There are a couple of vendors who might not be out today that I'll have to visit at home." 

"You don't think they'll mind?" asked Elyan. 

Gwen smiled prettily. "Not if we're buying." 

Teasingly, Elyan said, "I don't see why I have to be your mule when you're shopping for him." 

"Because you're my brother and it's your duty," she teased back. 

"Be grateful, Sir Elyan," said Marhaus mock-seriously. "You only have one sister. I had five." 

"One is enough," said Elyan, holding out his arm to his sister, but his eyes were shining with pride in her. 

**********************

Percival glanced sideways at Merlin as the two made their way out of the castle. "So why did you have to change clothes to go into town?" 

Merlin shrugged under his old brown jacket. "I just wanted to look like myself. People are use to seeing me look like this, not like…" 

"Like a gentleman? Someone with a bit of dosh?" teased Percival. 

"Which I don't have," said Merlin quickly. 

"Well, it helped this morning," said Percival with an easy smile. "You walked out just totally owning it. The crystal in the staff you were carrying and the lining of your cloak both reflected the light from the fires. You looked like you were already doing magic. Jaws dropped. Some of the knights were ready to pay up before you said a word." 

Merlin planted his feet. "What do you mean, 'pay up'?" he demanded. 

Grinning, Percival turned to face the irritated sorcerer and raised his hands palm up. "You know Gwaine can't resist a bet and there were more than a few of the knights last night at the tavern who thought you wouldn't be able to move more than a few pebbles. We had to defend your honor, didn't we?" 

Merlin spluttered. 

Percival reached back a hand, slapping Merlin on the back and propelling him forward. "What is it you need at the market anyway that you need help carrying it?" 

The sorcerer turned a mild shade of green and tripped over his own toes, which was surprising since he was looking at them at the time. Percival caught him by both shoulders, righting him as they walked. "I… I don't need anything at market, Percival, at least not the kind of thing you carry in a basket. I need to see how bad it really is." Merlin's glance at the knight begged for his understanding. 

Percival was anything but slow. "You haven't been yet, haven't been out of the castle at all since the coronation." He thought for a moment. "Probably best then to go with a knight. I'm glad you asked me. I'm honored." 

Merlin shook himself. "And I'm probably being a coward." 

"No, you're being sensible," disagreed Percival with a twinkle in his eye and a lopsided smile. "You're with me. That will calm impressionable personages. And if someone isn't inclined to calm, I do intimidating pretty well." 

They passed out of the archway leading to the town. Merlin took a breath and licked his lips nervously. As they passed through the streets he'd called home for five years, Merlin noticed people start and point as he passed by. Shutters closed on several homes despite the warmth of the morning. More than one woman rounded up her children and shooed them into a house, though most just kept an eye in the sorcerer's direction. A man glanced around as if to see who was watching before bowing in Merlin's direction and hurrying away. Merlin thought he might have been bowing at Percival, but the big knight grabbed his shoulder and chuckled, indicating that he thought otherwise. 

"Relax," said Percival quietly, but with a grin. "If you're nervous then so will they be." 

Merlin tried to smile, though he knew it was coming out a little sickly and the sharp jab that he suddenly felt on his arse didn't help matters. Merlin jumped and spun, trying to see who'd hit him. A little boy, no more than five or six years old, held a tiny toy bow only a few yards away, the blunt arrow lay in the street at Merlin's feet. A plump young woman cried out and ran to scoop up her son, but Percival was quicker. 

The knight scooped the boy into his arms and trotted back to Merlin, the woman following after making incoherent noises in protest. "Here now," said Percival jovially, "I told you not everyone feared sorcerers." 

"Wonderful," said Merlin ironically. 

Percival settled the boy more firmly on his hip. "Ah, nothing's hurt but your pride and I've seen you swallow that often enough. What's your name lad?" 

"James," said the boy softly, settling his head on Percival's shoulder. His mother had sunk to her knees where her son had been standing, shaking her head and wringing her hands. 

"Well, James, this is Merlin." 

"I know," said the boy shyly. 

Reprovingly, Percival asked, "Then why did you shoot him in the arse?" 

James piped up confidently, "'cause he's a sorcerer and sorcerers are bad." 

"Merlin is a sorcerer, but he's loyal to the King and he's working with the knights to help us keep bad sorcerers out of Camelot," explained Percival patiently. 

"But all sorcerers are bad!" exclaimed the little boy. 

Merlin hmphed and half turned away. 

"Are all little boys bad?" asked Percival calmly. 

"No!" averred James. 

"Are some little boys bad?" 

James nodded. "Sometimes." 

"It's the same with sorcerers. Some are very very bad, but some are ok." Percival rested his head against James' forehead and lowered his voice, including the little boy in a confidence. "And if Merlin was bad, you'd be a scorch mark. He has a lot of magic." 

"Percival," Merlin protested in a hiss. 

Percival reached out a hand and messed up Merlin's hair again. Merlin shook him off and gave him a hangdog look. James giggled. Percival laughed. "You let the knights worry about sorcerers," he told the little boy, taking him back to his mother. She rose at his approach and reached for her child, relief returning color to her cheeks. Before he released the boy to her, Percival said, "You send this one to me for training when he's old enough. We can always use brave men in the guard." 

"Y-yes, yes Sir," stammered the mother bobbing a curtsey before making her escape with her child. People on the street had given up any pretence of not staring. Percival met the eyes of several with a lop-sided smile, sending them about their business before turning back to his friend. 

"I thought you were going to help me," scolded Merlin, his hands on his hips. 

"I am helping," Percival assured him, returning in two long strides. "People need to see that you're still a person, you didn't change into something else, something that's both more and less than human. Come on. You wanted to go to the market." 

"I'm not sure I should," said Merlin, his eyes downcast. 

"Yes," said Percival positively, "you should." He gave the smaller man a shake. "You're really something, you know that? And anyone you've let see the real you knows that, and we like you. Time to stop hiding." The big knight laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder to urge him on. Merlin took a breath and trailed slightly behind. 

They reached the market, an open square largely filled with stalls brimming with goods of itinerant traders and locals who set up a stall only when they'd produced enough merchandise to make it worth their while to waste a day in selling. The square was surrounded by shops and businesses of a more permanent nature, some of whom rented out tables and canopies to the transients. In the bustle and noise of the crowd the sorcerer and knight were largely ignored, though a woman who wasn't watching where she was going bumped into Merlin with her basket and when she looked into his face, she blanched, bobbed a curtsey in apology and fled. 

Merlin and Percival passed by a woman selling crocheted laces, a tinker hawking copper pots and pans and cast iron cauldrons, a woman farmer selling flats of strawberries and cherries and straw hats, and a wood carver selling wooden spoons, bowls, fish hooks and spindles. In the next stall Merlin saw a woman he knew as an older widow who Gaius tried to attend at least once a month. She was raising several of her orphaned grandchildren and the nine year old granddaughter sat on a small braided rug at her grandmother's feet sewing a patch on what was most likely a younger sibling's trousers. Maribeth was the tavern keeper's sister-in-law and had free use of a table, chair, and canopy whenever her health and the weather allowed her to set up a stall. 

Her wares weren't attracting any customers at the moment, which was hardly a surprise since the old woman sold mostly things which could be made out of worn out clothing such as quilts, small pillows, and braided rugs that sold better in cold weather. Four quilts folded lengthwise covered and hung over the table on display: one in pale wheaty colors, the second with a lot of greens, the fourth blocked in browns with patterned pieces of cloth forming daisy petals in each square, but the third drew Merlin's attention. It was dark like a night sky; a field of blue-black-gray across which diagonally scattered diamonds of red orange and yellow, like a fire roaring up into sparks in front of a moonless night. Realistically, Merlin knew the old woman had probably dyed the fabrics the dark color to hide stains and make unusable cloth usable, but he liked the effect so much he couldn't resist reaching out to touch it. 

He heard the old woman gasp in surprise and snatched his hand back as he met her eyes. Before either of them could say anything, however, the carver in the next stall spoke up loudly. "Here now! What do you mean coming down here and scaring old women?" Percival took a step so he was between Merlin and the carver, but even that couldn't break off the man's tirade. "Begging your pardon, Sir Knight," he continued in a tone that begged no pardon at all, "but how could you bring _**that**_ down here among decent folk? S'alright if the King wants to keep a sorcerer up at the castle, but us ordinary folk, we've no use for magic." 

"Who elected you headman, Aaron Carver?" demanded Maribeth shrilly, cutting off any response Percival might have made. "Some in this town are old enough to remember the last Court Sorcerer. Magic wasn't always illegal. It was King Uther who decided that and even he used magic the first few years." 

Aaron, who looked not much older than Merlin and probably didn't remember a time when magic hadn't been illegal in Camelot, looked as shocked as if the old woman had suddenly grown another head. Confused, he asked, "King Uther used magic?" 

"So he did," insisted Maribeth, hobbling from her chair closer to her wares. Merlin's eyes widened at her approach even with the table between them. "Osred died in the war, of course, but he made such lovely fireworks for Prince Tristan's wedding. Do you do fireworks, young sorcerer?" 

Merlin blinked at her. "Um, no." 

"No, I suppose not," she said, mildly disappointed. "Fireworks would be showy and you've had to hide your magic." 

"There are more important things for the Court Sorcerer to think about now, Maribeth," sniffed another older woman stepping out of the staring crowd with a shopping basket on her arm. Philippa served as one of Camelot's midwives, so she'd often been in consultation with Gaius and knew Merlin well. She stood straight, facing her contemporary and apparently ignoring Merlin. "The herb gardens, for instance." 

"Herb gardens?" asked Merlin, with no clue what she might have been talking about. 

She turned to him then, scowling down her long nose, her mouth pinched in disapproval. "The castle used to boast excellent herb gardens, enough to supply all of their own needs and provide some for the town as well. King Uther had them dug up shortly after he burned all the sorcerers saying he wouldn't have the elements of magic around him. Gaius objected of course, citing the need for medicinal herbs, but the King would have none of it." 

"Gaius wasn't in good odor just then, Philippa. He'd only just escaped the fires himself. Has he told you that story, young sorcerer?" 

Merlin shook his head. He wished she'd quit calling him that. It wasn't as if she didn't know his name. 

Her eyes twinkled at him. "The day of the Great Purge, only hours before the fires were to be lit, Uther had gone to see his baby son and the Prince sneezed on him, a good juicy one. The King called for a physician and found that they were all in the dungeon awaiting burning. Wasn't a one that hadn't practiced magic. King Uther decided to grant one pardon so he could keep a Court Physician. Not sure how it happened it was Gaius. I don't think he was first choice. I know King Uther kept a sharp eye on him for a long time." 

Philippa crossed her arms over her chest. "Not sharp enough if he didn't know old Gaius was harboring a sorcerer under his roof, and don't try to tell me the old man didn't know." Merlin drew himself up to answer her harshly, but she plowed on. "I hope we can expect some professional courtesy from you since you've received some medical training. Magic and medicine have often worked together in the past. Perhaps you can convince the young King that we need a physician or two for the town as well as the court." 

"Gaius does his best, Philippa," admonished Maribeth. 

"Yes, but he's to do the court first," sniffed the midwife. Philippa looked up into the air, though she patently addressed Merlin. "Also, you could come with the guards next time they're searching for an enemy sorcerer. Spoiled half a season's herb gathering last time. Don't know what they thought I'd be hiding in a jar of rosemary." She frowned. "I don't suppose it will be safe for me to start training some apprentices until we actually have a Queen. Take your life in your hands to help a life into this world but babies will be born, with attendants or without them. Don't know how many times I've had some husband pounding on my door in the middle of the night because his wife had refused any help for fear of being accused of consorting with a sorcerer and now it's gone all bad wrong. Men don't understand such needs and the women of the court have stayed away from the city when it's near their time so they can be properly attended without fear of accusation." 

Maribeth clapped her hands in delight, having picked up on what mattered to her in Philippa's speech. "Oh, a Queen! King Arthur's just the right age to be wanting to marry." 

Philippa rolled her eyes. "You might stick to what's most wanting, Maribeth." 

"It's you that's interrupting, Philippa," said Maribeth. "The young sorcerer was just admiring one of my quilts." She gave Merlin a toothy smile. "A fine new blanket for your bed to celebrate your new position?" 

"Umm, I doubt I'd have the money," Merlin admitted awkwardly. 

"Of course you have the money, Merlin," said a sunny voice from behind him. Gwen broke through the crowd, a basket on her arm and Elyan at her heels. "I have it here. Which quilt did you like? You'll need a new one for your bed anyway." 

"I don't even have a bed," hissed Merlin, "and it's not my money." 

Gwen gave a long suffering sigh. "Which one, Merlin?" Merlin touched the dark quilt and Gwen picked it up to examine the stitching. 

"My best work in that one," said Maribeth brightly. "I could let it go for seven silver." 

Merlin drew a sharp breath at such a high price. 

Gwen dropped the quilt back onto the table. "Anyone else you'd ask five and be content with three. And over half those stitches are your granddaughters' though they are improving." 

Maribeth pursed her lips in umbrage. "Five then." 

"Four," said Gwen, "and only if you'll take on a commission as well." 

The older woman perked up. "A commission?" 

"I want a braided rug in colors to complement the quilt, as tall as a man and as wide as his armspan." 

"What would I need that for?" demanded Merlin. 

"I know you, Merlin," sighed Gwen. "You've given up your bed and slept on the floor on more than one occasion. Besides, it will make the room warmer." 

Maribeth looked Merlin up and down as though taking his measurements. "Take a lot of cloth and days of work. Four more silver for the rug." 

"Three," said Gwen firmly. 

Maribeth nodded, satisfied. 

Gwen reached into the full purse that hung from her belt and handed over four silver pieces. "The rest on delivery," she said, picking up the quilt and folding it neatly. 

"Might be next week before I get it done," said Maribeth. "I'll have to buy more material and people always think their old things are worth more than they are." 

"You have the money to buy. Though," said Gwen turning to Merlin and shoving the quilt into his arms, "I ought to give her what you're wearing for the project." 

"My mother made me these," protested Merlin gathering the cloth to his chest. 

"Your mother is a lovely woman. Shall I write to her and ask her blessing? Those are worn thin and have been mended so many times I doubt any of the original sewing is left. You have better, Merlin." She addressed Maribeth. "Honestly, some men get so attached to their clothes they'll wear them to rags." 

"Bossy," Merlin murmured under his breath as he turned to go. "Why is it that everyone who isn't afraid of me thinks they can boss me?" 

"Because your friends know what's good for you and you'd do well to listen to us," answered Gwen firmly. 

Percival chuckled as a quiet and staring crowd let them through. "Half the time you don't seem to know what you're supposed to be doing, unless you have Morgana in your sights." 

"I'm still working on that," said Merlin, waving a finger admonishingly. "Morgana and I have been trying to kill each other for years." 

A noticeable ripple went through the crowd with more than a few backing away and about half bowing or curtseying to the sorcerer. Merlin looked at the faces around him in confusion and nearly stumbled over his contrition. 

Percival's hand clamped down steadyingly on the sorcerer's right shoulder as he stepped to his left so they walked out of the marketplace companionably side by side. "Seen enough?" asked the knight, his lips barely moving. 

"More than," answered Merlin as quietly. 

******************

Agravaine plastered on a welcoming smile as he entered the council chamber. The other councilors had already arrived and were seating themselves, Lord Arundel banging his cane against the legs of the chair he'd chosen to alert the manservant present to pull it out for him. Agravaine immediately came around the table to approach the old lord. "Lord Arundel, good of you to set aside your time so that the council could all broach this matter together." 

Arundel snorted at him. "Better than having him repeat himself a half dozen times for each of us, though," he glanced at Gaius, "I imagine some of us have fewer questions than others." 

Agravaine chuckled, "Too true, I fear." He clapped his peer on the shoulder and went to take the seat between Marhaus and Arundel, annoyed to be seated in the middle. The councilors sat three to a side with the only other seat being at the head of the table and Agravaine was far from foolish enough to take that seat. 

"I dislike being kept waiting," complained Lord Arundel. 

"He'll be here," Sir Leon assured him. 

Running steps announced Merlin's arrival as the sorcerer pulled himself down to a walk right on the threshold, the laces on his black vest bouncing. 

"Ah, Merlin, won't you take a seat?" said Agravaine affably. 

Merlin took one glance at the seat at the head of the table and said flatly, "That's Arthur's chair." 

"It's not a throne, Merlin," replied Agravaine with a kindly but condescending smile. "You can sit there." 

Merlin shot him a look of pure venom and walked back out. 

"Now really," Agravaine protested. 

Merlin immediately came back in carrying another chair, which he placed at the foot of the table. 

"We have servants for that sort of thing," grumbled Sir Marhaus. "You could have asked." 

"Indeed," said a voice from the doorway that made everyone sit up a bit straighter. "Let the servants do their jobs, Merlin." 

"Highness, so good of you to join us," said Agravaine. 

"So good of you not to invite me, Uncle," said Arthur sharply. 

Cadby followed Arthur in and collected cups for both Arthur and Merlin from the sideboard and filled them. 

Agravaine smiled benignly. "I know how busy you are, Arthur, and didn't think it necessary to waste your time listening to answers you already know." 

"In future, I'm to be informed whenever the council meets and I'll decide if I need to attend or not." 

"Of course," agreed Agravaine, a bit put out by this turn of events. He sat back in his chair and waited. 

"Get on with it," commanded Arthur, lifting his goblet. 

"Well, as you're here, Arthur…" began Agravaine. 

"I have no questions," said Arthur. "I'm here as a spectator only." 

"Very well," said Agravaine uncomfortably. Folding his hands in front of him he tried to affect the pleasant air he'd entered the room with. "Merlin. I think that all of us have the same burning question. How is it that you were able to protect Arthur from Morgana's latest attack, but not Uther, God rest his soul?" 

Merlin's eyes bored into Agravaine. "Arthur trusts me. Uther wouldn't have allowed me to protect him had he known about my magic." 

Agravaine opened his hands. "But you still tried to protect him, did you not?" 

"Yes." 

"So you had to trick him into accepting your protection." 

"Yes," answered Merlin. "It wasn't the first time." 

Marhaus cleared his throat. "I was guarding Uther's door that evening. I don't normally take such duties anymore, but I convinced Sir Cole to make way for me when I saw Sir Kay take over for Sir Peredur by Arthur's order. I had a feeling that all was not well. About midnight, Sir Kay fell to his knees claiming he'd been struck and then I saw you running toward us with Sir Leon. When I got the door open, Uther was on the floor apparently already dead." Sir Marhaus took a sip from his goblet, his hand shaking at the memory. "What I want to know is what you did to try to save him." 

"I tried the same spell I'd already used on Arthur," replied Merlin. 

"On Arthur?" demanded Marhaus. 

Merlin nodded tightly. "Morgana's spell struck them both. Arthur stopped breathing, but his heart still beat. I forced him to take a breath and he started breathing on his own. Uther's heart had stopped. I couldn't make it beat and making his lifeless body take a breath did nothing to restore him." 

"Uther was quite ill," Gaius interjected patiently. "He'd never recovered from Morgana's betrayal. It's no surprise that a spell that could have stopped a younger man's breath would stop Uther's heart." 

Agravaine leapt at this new opening to stir up trouble. "So you knew of Merlin's plans to protect the King that night, Gaius?" 

"I knew," Gaius confirmed. 

Agravaine affected surprise. "So then you knew Merlin was a sorcerer while magic was still illegal?" 

"Enough," commanded Arthur. "Gaius was my Father's bonded sorcerer, whether Father chose to acknowledge that later in his life or not. Speculations on what Gaius knew about Merlin's magic during my Father's lifetime can only lead to speculations about what my Father knew or did not know about magic in the kingdom. I would take such speculations as an insult to my Father's memory. Leave what Gaius knew or did not know between them." 

Sir Leon threw Agravaine a disgusted look before turning to Sir Marhaus. "Merlin did his best that night. He set it up so some of us could take part of the blow for Arthur and Uther, be their shields. Maybe if more of the knights could have been involved, we could have saved King Uther." 

Marhaus looked away from Leon. Bitterly he said, "You mean had we trusted magic." 

"That trust is not going to come easily," said King Arthur. "If there were recriminations to be made, it would be I who would make them. Everyone did their best. Sometimes it is not enough." 

"Dead is dead," said Lord Arundel querulously. "I'm more concerned with the living. When can we get some more physicians? Gaius is excellent at his craft but there's not enough hours in the day for him to serve all who need him. We haven't been able to tempt physicians into the kingdom for years. Believe me, I have tried. Most of them practice magic and their arts are so beyond the common man that even those that don't would have been open to accusation." 

"And what would you propose be done about that?" asked Arthur. 

"Find some!" scowled Arundel, his tone entirely too near an order, but he barreled on despite Arthur's glare. "The last one that came over the boarder was that fellow who tried to assassinate Uther. They can't help but be under suspicion. And don't think people don't realize it either. Nothing less than the King's assurances will bring physicians into this kingdom and probably not for less than double pay at that." 

"One of the midwives approached me in the market this morning too, Arthur," said Merlin tentatively. 

"Midwives?" asked Arthur, curling his lip in the expression he usually reserved for Merlin's more unbelievable diversions. 

Merlin nodded. "Yes, she wanted to know when they'd be able to start training apprentices without fear of burning." 

"Well, I hope you put that fear to rest quick enough," said Arthur fiercely. 

Merlin bit his lip. "I might have been a little over my head with all she was blurting at me. She also wanted to know when the herb gardens would be replanted." 

"Herb gardens?" 

"Yes. Oh, and she also wanted me to make sure the guards didn't ruin all her medicines the next time you sent them out searching for an enemy sorcerer." 

Throwing up his hands, Arthur demanded stridently, "What does all that have to do with physicians?" 

Merlin squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, midwives are kind of like physicians aren't they? Just for women." 

Arthur stared at his sorcerer uncomprehendingly. 

"Actually, replanting the herb gardens might be a good idea, Arthur," said Gaius. "Uther ripped them out because he didn't want herbs that could be used in magic around him, but the herbs were more commonly used for medicines. Restoring the gardens would be a visible sign that things are changing where medical needs are concerned." 

"Herb gardens," repeated Arthur, a little stunned at the turn of the conversation. "Very well. Gaius, you and Merlin have my permission to talk to the castle gardener about restoring the herb gardens." 

Agravaine coughed lightly to gain Arthur's attention. "Sire, are you truly contemplating inviting a legion of sorcerers into the country?" 

"I hardly think a few physicians constitutes a 'legion,' Uncle," said Arthur annoyed. 

"Still, I must think of your safety, Arthur," begged Agravaine. "So many in the magical community must be out for revenge on your father, they'll happily take it out on you no matter what changes you make." 

Arthur waved Agravaine's objections away. "Physicians would come with letters of recommendation, patents of accomplishment, that sort of thing. I think we could safely take half a dozen and most kingdoms don't have that many. Gaius, don't you correspond with some of the court physicians of our allies?" 

"Yes, my Lord," Gaius confirmed. 

"Good. Write to them and say that I'm looking for a physician for the army. Not the court, mind you. I want someone who's young enough to travel to a battlefield." 

Gaius looked up at Arthur sharply. "I wasn't aware that I had let you down in that respect." 

"You haven't," replied Arthur. "Father always kept you here at court. That was his decision, but there were times that I could have wished for someone with more expertise than simply a skilled manservant or squire. I have more experts in the care of sick horses than wounded soldiers traveling with my forces. It's frustrated me since my first battle. Publicizing the opening will also help signal the change in policy." 

"And expose a weakness to our enemies," objected Agravaine. 

"Enemies don't attack based on the skill of our physicians," said Arthur. 

"Still such persons, potential sorcerers, will need to be vetted," insisted Agravaine. 

"That's Merlin's job," answered Arthur, startling the sorcerer. "It's actually been his job for years. Even if Father wasn't aware of it." 

Agravaine straightened and he shivered with tension. "I wonder you put so much faith in a man who's lied to you for so many years." 

Arthur's lip's quirked in amusement. "I wonder myself considering the wise thing for him to do would have been to never come near Camelot. But then I remember how many times he's saved my life, how many times he's offered up his own and I can find little fault in his hiding his powers to avoid the pyre." 

"In that case, a pardon would be appropriate, my Lord," suggested Geoffrey. 

"A pardon?" asked Arthur. "I'd hardly think that was necessary once I had accepted Merlin's oaths." 

"For the archives, Sire," confirmed Geoffrey, "Simply to confirm your intentions to posterity." 

"If you think that best," allowed Arthur. "Does that satisfy the council?" 

Nods and murmurs of assent rounded the table, excepting Agravaine, who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. 

"Good," said Arthur, "because I intend for Merlin to start joining this council." 

"You can't be serious!" exploded Agravaine. 

"There are too many matters of state involving magic at this time," said Arthur. 

"In which case, Gaius should be adequate council," insisted Agravaine. 

"Gaius is my physician, Merlin is my Court Sorcerer, Agravaine," said Arthur, staring at his uncle hard-eyed. 

"I would also have reservations," said Marhaus quietly, "that a man so young should be seated on a council meant to provide wisdom." 

"So am I to have no one among my councilors my own age, Sir Marhaus?" asked Arthur sternly. "Or perhaps you believe I am too young to rule?" 

"No one believes that, Sire," Marhaus assured him. "You are young, but also well trained and you've proven your worth in battle and state matters; whereas Merlin has hitherto been only a servant in your employ and not an overly competent one by your own accounts." 

"Merlin's talents clearly lie with something other cleaning, but he has been providing me with wise advice for years," said Arthur. 

Geoffrey snorted, but when the King turned his gaze on him, the archivist said, "I suppose it will do no harm to have him here, provided your Highness is not thinking of putting all of us dusty old men back on the shelves." 

"No worries," said Arthur. "Be assured that I know the worth of each man at this table." The King stood, ending the council session. 

Agravaine slipped away seething. That an uneducated serf from outcountry should now be seated at the council table appalled him. And if he could not figure out a way to unseat the boy, and soon, he himself would doubtless be off the council and banished back to his estates. Agravaine passed a servant in the corridor and roughly grabbed him by the arm, demanding wine and something stronger be sent to his rooms. He desperately needed to send Morgana this news, but had no idea where to send it. Until she contacted him, getting drunk seemed the only decent option. 

*******************

Merlin threw another log on the fire in his fireplace but nothing could warm the room devoid of companionship. He sat down at the table that had appeared while he'd been with the council and opened one of the spellbooks he'd brought up from the hidden room in the library. Normally this time of evening he'd have gotten Arthur off to bed and joined Gaius for an evening of study. Studying alone wasn't nearly as comforting as having the old man sitting across from him. 

He wondered how the banquet had gone. Tonight only the lords had been invited to dine with the King. There'd been no reason for him to go, though Arthur had teased him while he dressed about being the entertainment for the evening. Merlin's cringe at the memory was no less than it had been at the time. He supposed he should have a few spells to demonstrate his magic but he didn't want magic made light of either. 

Merlin closed his book in frustration and decided to tackle making up his new bed instead. The servants who'd brought it up had left it directly under the leaky trap door instead of by the window nearest the hearth where he had been sleeping. Fortunately the day had been dry, but he could hardly leave the bed where it was. He gathered up his blankets and deposited them on one of the sturdy polished chairs that had come with his table. Then, holding out his hands, he used his magic to float the bed into position. One of the posts for the as yet missing canopy wobbled as it slid through the air, so once he had it settled, Merlin got down on his knees to check that it had been attached properly. 

"Mer-lin," came Arthur's voice dimly from the stairwell. "Mer-lin." 

Merlin got up quickly, wondering if loneliness was getting to him enough to have him hearing voices. He opened his door and grinned at his King as he stepped into the room, still arrayed in the armor and cloak he'd worn to that evening's banquet. 

"Why is it that I have to come find you nowadays?" grumbled Arthur. 

"You could just send your servant," answered Merlin. "I'd come down if you want me." 

Arthur waggled one finger in the air. "But it's not the same. I miss you, Merlin. I miss you just being there when I want you." 

Merlin frowned at his friend. Arthur's step was firm enough, but his movements were careless and there was the slightest slur to his voice that wouldn't be easy to detect if you didn't know him well. "Arthur, you're drunk." 

Arthur chuckled. "A little. Cadby hasn't yet the trick of watering my wine. Do you have any idea how many lords are in Camelot right now? And they all want to toast my health. It would be rude not to drink with them and I can't afford to offend them just because the wine's straight now can I?" 

Merlin tilted his head in annoyance. "Clotpole. You can't even keep sober without me." 

"I never did figure out your trick for it," said Arthur, ignoring the insult and dropping into the sturdier of the two chairs by the fire. Narrowing his eyes, he added, "You weren't using magic on good wine, were you?" 

Merlin rested his hands on the back of the other chair. "I just kept topping the decanter off with water every time I filled your goblet, Arthur. By the end of the evening, you weren't getting much else. I'll be sure to talk to Cadby about watering the wine in the morning." 

Arthur snorted. "That's a girl's chair you're leaning on, you know that? All frilled up with em..embroidery. Why'd Marhaus give you a girl's chair?" 

Merlin rolled his eyes and seated himself on the only cushioned chair in the room. "I don't know, Arthur. I think he just moved furniture up here that wasn't good enough for the guestrooms anymore." 

"Oh." Arthur slumped in his chair and frowned around the room. "Do you have a chessboard up here?" 

"No." 

"You should have a chessboard up here. Then you and I could play." 

Merlin laughed lightly. "In your current state I could probably beat you too." 

Arthur snorted. "As if. How did things go this afternoon after I left? Agravaine disappeared, so I thought it would be safe enough to leave you with the rest of the councilors." 

Merlin rubbed his hands on his pant legs as he sat back. "Spent most of the afternoon with Lord Arundel. He's mostly interested in getting himself a private physician so he's not trapped in the city anymore." 

Arthur snorted. "Why do I think private physicians are going to become the latest status symbol among my nobles?" 

"You think?" asked Merlin with a tilt of his head. At Arthur's answering eye roll he agreed, "Yeah, you're probably right. 

Merlin knelt down in front of his hearth and poked at the fire. "Arthur," he began tentatively. "What did you mean it's my job to vet potential physicians to make sure they're not enemies? I'm lousy at spotting liars. Do you know how many times you've nearly been killed because I didn't spot the danger in time?" 

Arthur waved his hand to interrupt. "Merlin." 

Merlin's voice rose an octave. "I mean seriously, I think I've fallen for every trick in the book. And now I'm supposed to recruit sorcerers? Most of them hate Camelot, or are too afraid to set foot in the country." 

"Merlin," interjected Arthur. 

"I mean I know what Lord Arundel wants is physicians, but most of them are also sorcerers." Merlin stood up, his eyes darting worriedly as his words dashed from his mouth. "We have to assume that a lot of them are going to hate Uther and by extension you! How do I tell the ones who want peace and healing from those hell-bent on revenge? Edwin certainly didn't show any signs." Merlin began to pace. "I liked him. I didn't even know he was threatening Gaius. How am I supposed to spot more general mayhem when I can't even tell when someone is threatening someone I live with?" 

"Merlin!" Arthur took a deep breath when Merlin finally fell silent, his wide-eyes a testament to the pressure he was feeling. "Merlin, you don't answer to Lord Arundel or any lord other than me. You understand?" 

Merlin nodded deeply, lowering himself onto the embroidered chair. 

"And no one expects you to foresee every danger." 

"Yes, they do," muttered Merlin. 

"Then they're fools," said Arthur sternly. 

Merlin looked up worriedly. "You're not going to call the entire assembly of your lords fools to their faces?" 

Arthur stared at him unblinkingly. "'Course not. Not even if I was a lot more drunk than I am at the moment." 

"Good," said Merlin, looking away from his sovereign. 

Arthur leaned forward and laid a hand on Merlin's knee. Merlin looked at him questioningly. Arthur smiled at him slightly. "Merlin, trust me." 

"I do," said Merlin earnestly. "I don't trust me." 

"Well, I trust you, so if you trust me then you have to trust you," said Arthur brightly. 

"Arthur that made no sense," grimaced Merlin. 

Arthur's eyes half-lidded. "If you trust me and I trust you then…" Arthur trailed off and peered up at his servant. "What was I saying?" 

"Never mind, I get it I think," said Merlin a little worriedly. "If I have questions you can explain that in the morning when you're sober." 

"Good," said Arthur laying back in his chair and laying an arm over his eyes. "Then fetch my servant. Up the stairs was one thing, down might be another, and I'd rather not have anyone see you hauling me back to my chambers. It could give the wrong impression." 

Merlin glanced back at his King fondly as he laid his hand to the door. "I've promised you that I would serve you until the day I die, Arthur. And I will. In whatever capacity you'll have me." 

"A hang-over remedy for the morning would be welcome," grumbled the King. 

Merlin chuckled and started considering ingredients as he descended the stairs. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may look a bit tacked on. It was originally going to be the first chapter in the next story, but it really doesn’t fit timeline wise. So it moved… and morphed…and it is what it is. Call it an epilogue if you like. I was able to add a scene that had been asked for so I’m pretty happy about that.
> 
> I’m also a little concerned about this chapter because I have a feeling that someone will get offended because my naughty twins happen to have dark skin. They were originally going to be carrot tops with freckles. The reason they are dark skinned is that I wanted the knight who had the most noble death in the first season to be their father. I think that Pellinore is the clear winner there. Pellinore happened to be played by an actor of color and I wasn’t about to let that disqualify him.

Gwen awoke to a furious pounding on her door. Fearing some catastrophe, she pulled her blanket around her and hurried to open it before whoever was outside managed to break the sturdy entrance. The sight that met her eyes left her open mouthed in surprise. Malgwyn Carpenter stood on her porch, his face nearly purple with fury, fist clenching in rage, breathing like a bellows stoking a forge. 

"Lady Gwen," began the large man, managing somehow to be furious without being disrespectful, "I know what you said was only meant to impugn my courage, but I'll dammed well take you up on your offer. I'm old enough to remember when King Uther burnt up all the sorcerers, even if I was still clingin' to my momma's skirts, and my King didn't do that for nothin'. I've got my eldest workin' with me as apprentice now and I sure don't want him around no skulking sorcerer. So if you please, I'll accept your offer and have you with me while I have to work in the tower. Don't figure he'll care nothin' for me, but that damned sorcerer's not likely to get up to hijinks where you can see 'em, 'cause the King might actually listen to you." 

During this speech, Gwen had managed to close her mouth and pull her spine erect. "Malgwyn Carpenter, you know Merlin." 

"Begging your pardon, Lady, but I don't. I've met the bloody sorcerer, but I couldn't say I know him, nor know anybody who does or somebody would have known he was a sorcerer and King Uther would have done for him. Certainly wouldn't have had him in the castle and I don't know why I should think he won't take it into his head to cast some foul enchantment on me or mine if I so much as looks at him sidelong. Tricksy sorcerers are, and this one more than most to be living in the castle with King Uther alive and huntin' his sort all those years." 

Behind Malgwyn, Gwen could see a few people in the street who'd risen with the first rays of the sun to go about the day's work, but were now stopped to listen to the carpenter's rant. She focused on Malgwyn, but spoke loudly enough to be heard by those ears that were already stretched to catch her answer. "You can think yourself safe because Merlin was living all those years with Gaius, who knows enough to recognize a sorcerer and certainly knew what he was and that he was protecting Arthur and Camelot when only magic could. You can trust the knights who knew kept quiet because they saw him as a fellow defender. You can believe in your King, who is a fair and just man, and who named Merlin to his Court because Morgana forcibly demonstrated that you can't always meet magic effectively with swords and it was Merlin's magic that defeated her plans. And if all that isn't enough, then I will sit in the sorcerer's tower and watch over you. Merlin doesn't scare me and neither do you, Malgwyn Carpenter. So you can sit there on my porch while I dress properly and then I'll be pleased to escort you to your work. I trust it will be of your finest." 

Gwen shut the door in the carpenter's face and regained the breath she'd expended. 

*************************

Merlin was coming down the stair into the courtyard when he saw them; a mother sunk to her knees holding a child of three or four on her lap only a few paces away from the entrance that would lead to Gaius' chambers. The woman was wrapped in probably every piece of clothing she possessed, which peasants often did when traveling, so it was likely this pair had just come in from the countryside. As he approached them, he realized the mother was rocking her child and crying and the child was far too still to be well. 

He was glad he was wearing old clothes because if he'd tried to speak to this pair in his finer things, he'd probably scare the distraught mother to death, but at the moment he just looked like a servant and not one of the more important ones at that. Gently he asked the mother, "What troubles you?" 

"Oh, oh," she said, wiping her eyes. "My child is ill. He broke his wrist and now he has fever. I brought him to the physician for healing, but I heard in the market that he lives with the sorcerer and I dare not bring my child to him. I'm hoping the healer will come down, but I fear for my son." 

Merlin drew in a sharp breath, but tried to speak kindly to the frightened woman. "I guess the rumor mill is behind the times then. The King's given the sorcerer his own rooms. He doesn't live with Gaius anymore. And I happen to know that the King has sent for the sorcerer and they'll be together all morning so now is a very good time for you to seek healing for your son." 

"Oh, are you sure?" asked the woman tremblingly. 

"Quite certain," said Merlin, taking her by the arm and helping her to her feet. Leading her to the entrance, he pushed her between the two armsmen stationed there. "Off you go," he said with a smile and a wave. 

"Thank you," said the woman shyly as she disappeared into the gloom cast by the stone walls. 

Merlin brought up one finger in front of the left hand guardsman. "Don't you dare tell her," he warned. He shifted to the other. "Either of you." 

Having received nods of agreement from both men, Merlin continued on his way to the knights' training grounds. 

Two running steps sounded behind him and Arthur had caught up to his sorcerer. "So are you ready?" asked the King brightly. 

Merlin hissed, "This is still not a good idea, Arthur. 

"Merlin, when are you going to learn that all of my ideas are good ideas?" 

"When I can stop saving you from your good ideas?" Merlin smirked. 

Arthur turned to Merlin and planted his feet. "And how many times have I had to save you from one of your good ideas?" 

"Never happens," answered Merlin cheerily, continuing on his way. 

"Never?" asked Arthur, following him. 

"Nope, never." 

"You're lying. I can always tell. I just don't always care," said Arthur catching up to the sorcerer again. "Like now. I don't care because I know that you are. Lying that is." 

"Oh, you know me so well," teased Merlin. 

"I do actually," said Arthur cheerily, lightly cuffing Merlin on the arm before greeting his knights. "Good morning, Gentlemen!" 

About thirty of the knights were gathered around the field. Two more were farther down working on practice dummies, but they stopped their swordplay at Arthur's hail and ran to join the others. 

Arthur waited for them to come up before continuing. "I'm pleased to see so many of you here this morning. I know that magic makes most of you nervous. Believe me, after all the tales of evil sorcerers I was raised on facing one raised my bile every time. And we are still facing them. Some have legitimate grievances. But they don't recognize that they can now get a fair hearing. Some have just gone too far to be redeemed. Place my sister at the top of both of those lists. There are also citizens who managed to avoid the purge by being law abiding citizens in every other sense. You may see magic used. Remember to stop and ask yourself if that sorcerer has done anyone an injury before lumping them in with enemies of the kingdom. Never let your fear rule you." 

"Some of you may have never seen magic. Or if you've seen magic, you may never have fought it. We have reason to believe that Morgana may attempt to recruit more sorcerers to her cause and we have to be prepared to meet magical threats. Fortunately, we have magical help on our side, which is why I've arranged for this demonstration this morning. Merlin has been protecting Camelot from magical attacks for years, despite the fact that my Father would have executed him in a heartbeat had he learned of Merlin's powers. He's also helped me work out tactics the knights can use when facing a sorcerer in battle. I hope you can see him as an ally as I do and not a potential adversary." Arthur nodded to Merlin and stepped to the sidelines, yielding him the floor. He watched Merlin blow out a long breath as he assumed Arthur's place. 

Merlin looked around at the knights assembled on the sidelines and licked his lips nervously. "So… I think most of you have seen me on the training ground, trying to keep up with Arthur and failing miserably. It's a bit more of a fair fight when I'm allowed my magic." He'd been trying for a bit of a joke, but if anything most of the knights looked more solemn and cross. Merlin scuffed his feet and called Lancelot and Gwaine forward. 

Elyan and Percival followed them. "What?" asked Elyan. "You didn't think we were going to make this that easy, did you?" 

All four knights ranged in a semi-circle facing Merlin, practice swords in their hands; Lancelot on his far right and Elyan on the far left. Elyan and Percival also carried shields. Merlin wished he'd thought to wear more padding. 

"Well, let's get this party started," Gwaine said jauntily, starting forward. 

Merlin snapped a hand up and Gwaine dived for the ground, sliding forward as he did so. Merlin slapped his hand in a backhanded arc in front of him catching the other three knights with his power. Lancelot was knocked backward into the air and twisted to take the landing on his side, protecting his head with his free arm. Elyan and Percival braced their legs and ducked behind their shields to take the blow. Percival withstood it, but the smaller knight was bowled over. In the meantime, Gwaine regained his feet and drove forward. 

Merlin rapped out a spell and a sword from the sidelines hurled itself into the air to challenge Gwaine. Lancelot rolled away from the combat and edged around the bout, sliding on his knees and side. Elyan rolled up onto his hip and slid a dagger from his vambrace, snapping it into the air at Merlin. Merlin slapped it aside before it had halved the distance between them. Percival charged forward, his head concealed behind his shield. Merlin made a slashing motion at his legs and the big knight's legs jerked out from under him sending him crashing to the ground. 

Merlin glanced toward Lancelot, who dropped his head as though exhausted or hurt. Gwaine used a disarming motion to send the enchanted sword spinning toward the sorcerer, who ducked it and sent it back into the fight with a shout. Percival regained his feet and heaved his shield up to block the enchanted sword. Elyan ran forward. 

Gwaine ducked around Percival's bulk while the taller knight danced with the enchanted sword. Merlin threw up his hand, knocking Gwaine back into Elyan, who dropped his shield and braced to catch the thrown knight steadying them both enough that neither lost his feet though they tangled up. At that moment Lancelot sprinted forward from behind Merlin, catching his red cloak over the sorcerer's head and wrapping his arms around him. "Surrender!" demanded the dark-haired knight in the sorcerer's ear. Merlin quieted in his arms. The enchanted sword fell to the ground and the other three knights approached cautiously. 

Merlin roared out a phrase that seemed to come from deep inside of him. Pure power lashed out in a wave all around him knocking Lancelot loose, striking the three knights menacing the sorcerer off their feet and clouting the spectators hard enough to cause cries of protest. Some lost their footing while others merely flailed, the results causing nearly as much mischief as the initial blow. 

Merlin drew off the cloak and looked around at the carnage he'd caused. "Is everyone alright?" he asked sheepishly. 

Arthur, having kept his feet, clapped his hands firmly and strode up to stand beside his sorcerer who was breathing hard. "So the name of the game is distraction and recovery. Remember that a sorcerer can strike you from a distance. Chances are you are going to get knocked around. Be prepared to take a blow or avoid one, even if it means diving for the ground. A shield may or may not be effective. And if you do get knocked into the air remember to twist to come down on your side and protect your head. Get back into the fight as quickly as you can even if it's just to provide a distraction so someone closer to the threat can get in the necessary blow. And if you're objective is to capture, not kill, your cloak can be an excellent weapon. Merlin may be able to use his magic without being able to see, but it's disorienting and not all sorcerers are nearly so practiced." 

The King fixed each of his knights with a challenging stare as he spoke, willing his words to strengthen their determination in future battles. "We work as a unit on the battlefield. Our honor is in our use to Camelot, not just our personal victories. A battle against a sorcerer is not so straightforward as with a knight and you will have to work as a team. Remember, there is no dishonor in retreat when it is to regroup and return to victory." 

The knights shifted uncomfortably under Arthur's expectations, but one stepped forward. "I think I'd like to try it," said Sir Kirkley, the bounce of his step betraying his nerves. 

"Try what?" drawled Arthur uncertainly. 

Kirkey shifted uncomfortably, but addressed the sorcerer rather than his King. "That is… Merlin… if you wouldn't mind… I haven't faced magic in a battle. I was asking if you'd be agreeable to a bout." 

"Umm," answered Merlin, glancing at his King. 

"Sure," answered Arthur, stepping back to the sidelines. "Why not?" 

"I usually bout with more than one," said Merlin worriedly to the young knight. 

"Anybody else?" asked Kirkley with false heartiness, gesturing at the knights on the sidelines. 

"Fool," breathed his brother, Sir Coel. 

Sir Peredur signaled Percival to hand over his practice sword. "I'll do it. We should always be willing to stand beside a brother knight and as Elcwith isn't here…" he trailed off with a withering glance at Coel, who bristled but didn't volunteer. 

Kirkley accepted a practice sword from Gwaine and the two faced the sorcerer. At their first step Merlin tossed the pair into the air. Peredur came down on his back and twitched once before lying still. Kirkley twisted and came down on his side, protecting his head with his arms as Arthur had commanded. The young knight cried out briefly and tried to rise, dropping his sword half-way up. 

Merlin was between the two knights in an instant. He took Peredur's ashen face in his hands before running a hand along the back of the knight's neck and growling an enchantment. 

"Is he…?" demanded Coel as the knights surrounded their fallen comrades. 

"He's breathing. Get Gaius," said Merlin before turning to Kirkley. "Where?" 

"My side," replied Kirkley, grimacing. "Landed on a rock. It's hard to breathe." 

Merlin brushed Kirkley's fingers away from where he was holding the injury and pressed lightly. At Kirkley's answering intake of breath, Merlin laid his hands flat on the knight's side and rapped out a short spell. 

Kirkley breathed out in relief. "That feels better." 

"It's not healed," Merlin cautioned him quickly. "It's healing, but no more practice for you for at least three days or Gaius will have my head." 

Kirkley nodded. "It still hurts, but not nearly so much. Did you do the same for Peredur?" 

"Peredur's hurt his neck," said Merlin, turning back to the other knight. "It's not broken, but there's been too much of a shock. I more soothed the hurt than anything." 

Gaius arrived and knelt by Peredur. When Merlin repeated to him that Peredur had hurt his neck, Gaius turned to Arthur. "If someone could bring a board to carry him on?" 

Arthur shouted the order to a nearby servant and Peredur was carted off to his chambers, most of the knights drifting off in the process. 

Still seated on the ground by Kirkley, Merlin looked up at Arthur meaningfully. "I think there may be a reason it's safer for me to bout with some of the knights." 

Arthur stiffened slightly catching more of Merlin's meaning than he was willing to admit. "Of course. They're your friends. It's always easier to bout with someone who you know won't intentionally hurt you than someone you're still a bit unsure of." 

"I guess," said Merlin as Arthur hauled him to his feet. 

"Cheer up," said Arthur, clapping Merlin on the back. "They're both going to be ok, aren't they?" 

"I feel well enough now, Sire," said Kirkley, rising slightly shakily. 

"Good. Your healing spells must be getting better," Arthur said pointedly to Merlin. 

"They shouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place," muttered Merlin. 

"Training accidents happen," said Arthur lightly. "What's the alternative? We don't train? We'd be meat for any enemy." 

"I suppose," said Merlin unhappily. He turned away. "I have some gathering to do." 

Kirkley laid a hand on the sorcerer's shoulder. "Thank you… Merlin. For the bout and the healing." 

Merlin's expression lightened. "The honor was mine," he said shyly as he ducked away heading for the gate and the peace of the greenwood. He didn't see the figure that broke away from the back of the group and followed him, or the one that followed a hundred paces after that. 

*************************

Arthur walked back to the keep with Kirkley, watching his younger knight for signs of weakness. Kirkley looked slightly pale, but his step was firm. "That was brave," said the King. 

"Not so much," said Kirkley bashfully. 

"None of the other knights thought to try," observed Arthur. 

Kirkley shrugged. "Someone needed to." 

Arthur turned to him. "Yes, but you did. I'll remember that." 

Kirkley blushed and would have said something but for a sudden clattering of hooves. Kirkley turned sharply to face the oncoming steeds, throwing out an arm protectively in front of his sovereign. 

Arthur also heard them before he saw them; two stallions racing neck and neck across the courtyard, ignoring pedestrians and barely pulling up before the stairs that led to the throne room. Two lithe teenage boys spilled off of the horses, grappling for each other and shouting at one another as their horses danced out of the way. "You do not get to precede me!" "Me? You were the one hogging the road!" 

A third horse carrying a tall woman with long blond hair flying galloped into the courtyard under better control. "Boys! Boys! Stop at once!" yelled the rider. "Enough! Enough!" she shouted as she slid from her mount. "What will the King think?" 

Arthur took that as an invitation to interfere and strode across the courtyard with every intention of breaking up the fight. "Enough!" he shouted at his most commanding, reaching for the boys wrestling on the ground. One of the boy's flailing feet caught him on the shin and Arthur straightened with a hop, crying out in more anger than pain, and suddenly his knights were around him hauling the boys to their feet, Sir Kay holding one and Sir Leon the other. The boys were so intent on each other it took them a moment to realize they were caught and stop struggling. 

"Oh, Sire, I'm so sorry," cried the woman in mortified voice. 

Arthur turned to identify the vaguely familiar voice. "Alise?" he asked even as she dropped into a low curtsey. "Here now," he said offering her his hand. She made an attempt to kiss his ring, but he grasped her hand firmly and pulled her to her feet. She bent her head in shame and tears trickled down her fair cheeks. Arthur stepped closer to her and attempted to wipe the tears away. "Alise, what can have happened to have a knight's lady in tears?" 

She began wiping the tears away herself. "You always were too kind, Sire." 

"No I wasn't, I was a little brat when you first came to court," said Arthur, trying to get her to smile, which she did. 

"You did like to play tricks, but you were only a child," she allowed. "I meant you were kind to me when Pellinore died." 

"Your husband died trying to protect me, I could hardly have been such a monster as to treat you poorly. These are your sons, I take it?" asked Arthur nodding at the two sullen boys. Both had light brown skin and eyes and curly brown hair cut short. Arthur couldn't help but think that if he and Gwen ever had sons, they might look much like these two. They had the thinness of childhood and stood nearly as high as Sir Leon's shoulder. Nearly ready to begin formal training as knights, Arthur thought, though their father would have given them some training from the time they were small. 

"Yes," confirmed Lady Alise, looking chagrinned. "Balin and Balan." "Manners," she hissed at them. The boys barely ducked their heads at their King, but Arthur couldn't blame them too much as Kay and Leon still held on to the children whose straining muscles showed they'd just as soon wish the adults away so they could continue their scuffle. 

"Well, now you're here, whatever the problem I'm sure it can be solved," said Arthur heartily. 

Alise blushed and ducked her eyes. "We're actually here to see the sorcerer." 

"Merlin?" asked Arthur. "You need Merlin?" 

Alise looked up at him, her eyes begging for understanding. "Yes. You see the boys are twins and we don't know which is the elder and of course the eldest is to inherit their father's estate so they fight all the time. I was hoping the sorcerer would have some spell to settle the matter." 

"It's all her fault," yelled one of the twins, Arthur didn't yet know them apart. 

The other chimed in, "If she'd kept proper track of us at our birth she'd know I'm the elder." 

"No, I am," yelled his twin. The twins began to actively struggle to resume their wrestling. 

Arthur stood flabbergasted for a moment before he said simply and firmly, "No." 

Kay and Leon pulled the two boys further apart. "Listen to your King," commanded Sir Leon. 

Arthur frowned down at the two boys. "What makes you think either of you is fit to inherit a knight's estate?" 

"We'll be knights," declared one twin. 

"The best in Camelot," added the other. 

"Not the way you're acting," said Arthur, folding his arms across his chest. "If I ever heard one of my knights speak to his mother as you have just spoken to yours, I would beat him round the pitch until he begged for mercy. And when I granted it, the penance I would demand would be that he beg his mother's pardon every morning and every evening for a year. I won't have knights who treat women as poorly as you've just treated your own mother." 

When the twins stood stunned at this speech Leon shoved the back of the head of the boy he was holding and Kay followed suit with the other. "That would be a hint," proclaimed the head knight. 

"Sorry, mother," mumbled the twins. 

"Sorry indeed," said Arthur sourly. "I'm sorry Alise, but I cannot grant you an audience with the sorcerer." Her breath hitched in protest and he took her hand to comfort her. "I won't have magic consulted for easy solutions to complex problems. Your sons need to earn their place in the world, not be given it. I'll grant their father's estate to the one who proves most worthy, or perhaps I'll split it between them, or grant them their own estates, if they can earn them, and leave Pellinore's holdings to you. But I'm not doing any of that until they've had a chance to gain their knighthoods, which won't be for several years at least and may not be ever if they can't learn better manners." 

Arthur settled his hands on his hips and glared down at the two boys. "The two of you are not to disturb your mother further. You can sleep on the hearth in the kitchen. You haven't shown me you deserve better. For the moment, it's off to the stocks with you. You can stand in them until dinner. Then you can take your dinners in the kitchen. Watch out for the cook. I hear she's quick with her ladle and I won't punish her for keeping order in her kitchen if she smacks you with it." He jerked his head in the direction of the stocks and Leon and Kay marched the protesting boys away. 

"Arthur, please!" begged their mother. 

Arthur held up a finger to indicate she should wait while the boys got out of hearing range. Then he turned to her with a sigh. "Alise, those are not children. They are young men and young men frequently require a boot applied to their arses. If you'll remember, I was no exception. I have no doubt that if their father were alive he would have seen to their manners the first time they spoke to you disrespectfully. Since he is not and he died in my service, I claim the honor. Don't worry if I'm a bit rough with them. They'll come around quick enough when they see that their behavior won't make them friends among the knights. Now," he said wrapping her hand around his arm. "Allow me see you to your quarters personally." 

"You'll see to them, Arthur? You promise?" Lady Alise asked anxiously. 

Arthur nodded, "On my honor as a knight, Alise." 

********************

Merlin walked through the greenwood thankful for the cool breeze and shade that helped quiet his concerns. Kirkley had stepped forward. He'd been willing to bout against magic. Not kill him for it, practice with a sorcerer. The knight had even thanked him afterward despite the fact that he'd been injured. Maybe there was some hope of the knights accepting him after all. Maybe… 

Merlin absently pulled a cloth gather bag from his belt and started picking raspberry leaves from the side of the track he walked. His hand brushed a ripe berry as he worked and he couldn't resist popping it into his mouth. He let his mind wander up the trail to his goal for this morning; a long abandoned and overgrown garden where several herbs rare to the area grew. He had no doubt that the dilapidated hut attached to the garden had once belonged to someone long dead on the pyre for sorcery. He hoped that the deceased sorcerer would have been one of the hopeful ones who would approve his taking some of their stock to replant the castle gardens. Gaius would know. The first time he'd brought calendula back from the garden Gaius had given him such a look as though he'd known exactly where Merlin would have found such a thing but he'd quickly diverted Merlin from asking the question. 

The snap of a branch brought Merlin out of his reverie, his ears listening for a telltale of an ambush even as he reached for more leaves, feigning obliviousness to an intruder that was more likely to be a man than an animal. Silence continued around him. Clearly the hunter was patient, which never boded well for Merlin. 

Finally, a voice growled quietly, "I can tell you know I'm here." 

"Sir Tremayne," confirmed Merlin turning his head, but the knight was nowhere in sight. Merlin turned more fully and scanned the thick green foliage. 

The knight stepped out from behind a tree that a small boulder nearly the color of the knight's armor sat beside. "Court Sorcerer," Sir Tremayne acknowledged him curtly. 

The silence stretched between them until Merlin asked, "Have you come to kill me, Sir Tremayne?" 

"The King forbids," replied the knight, but if looks could kill, Merlin had no doubt he'd be breathing his last. 

A sinking feeling in his stomach, Merlin said, "You disagree with him." 

Tremayne stepped forward quickly, Merlin straightening in preparation to take a blow, but the knight stopped several steps from the sorcerer. "You will do nothing to harm my King." 

"Never," Merlin confirmed incredulously. 

"He thinks you are his creature," raged the knight, "but you're a wild thing, playing loyal enough for the moment but just salivating to bite. You're a patient blight spreading your religion through the land, your philosophy infecting the castle until the King finds you are the master and he but the servant." 

Shaking, Merlin swore, "I will protect Arthur with my dying breath." 

Tremayne snorted. "It will be your dying breath if you harm him or any of the knights ever again." 

"That was an accident," said Merlin incredulously. "Kirkley's already forgiven me and I'll beg Peredur's pardon when he wakes up." 

Temayne growled, "Kirkley is too easily influenced, though I suppose Peredur will forgive you if the King stands behind you." 

"Then it isn't your business, Sir Tremayne," snapped Merlin, tiring of the knight's insults. 

Tremayne stiffened, which Merlin wouldn't have believed possible a moment before considering the stick the knight apparently had running up his ass to his head. "I came to get your word, Sorcerer." 

"I'm surprised you'd accept my word on anything." 

Tremayne ground his teeth. "You're not a knight and considering how much of an accomplished liar you are; I doubt you have any concept of honor. But I'll have your word anyway." 

"I've already given Arthur my oath, several times, once in public, which you witnessed." 

"It isn't that!" snapped the knight. "I want your word that you won't try to heal me as you did before, as you just did for Kirkley and Peredur. Kirkley might accept it. Peredur might even swallow his pride. I would sooner die than have your magic touch me." 

Merlin stood there, stunned. He whispered, "Surely you can't think that healing magic is evil?" 

Tremayne stepped forward again until his nose was only inches from Merlin's face. He intoned, "All magic is evil." 

Merlin gulped, "Then you have my word. I will not try to save you with my magic unless that runs counter to the King's command. My loyalty to Arthur is paramount. If he says to save you, then I'll have to, no matter what you think of it." 

Tremayne gave a tight nod. "My fealty is to King Arthur. He may do with me as he wishes so long as it is his order and not yours through his mouth." 

"No one controls Arthur," said Merlin, a growl creeping into his voice. "I won't allow it." 

Tremayne's eyes narrowed at the sorcerer before he spun on his heel and stamped away. Merlin sagged as the knight disappeared but spun as a voice sounded from the rise off to his left. "Right bastard, isn't he, Merlin?" 

"You heard all that, Gwaine?" moaned Merlin. 

"Saw Tremayne follow you," confirmed Gwaine, swinging his arms loosely as he walked down the knoll. "Wanted to make sure he wasn't going to use you as a target again." 

"That would have been easier to deal with," groaned Merlin. 

"True," allowed Gwaine, cocking his head as he looked in the direction the other knight had taken. "Tremayne's an ass, biggest donkey in the stable, stubborn and stupid." 

"And a noble," complained Merlin. "He's not only a knight, he's a lord. Arthur has to listen to him." 

"But he doesn't have to agree with him. Tremayne is only one voice." Gwaine smacked Merlin on the arm. "I heard about all the people bowing to you in the marketplace." 

"I've never wanted that," bleated Merlin. "I just want to be accepted for who I am." 

"Merlin, there's a name for the people who accept you for what you are," said Gwaine taking Merlin by the shoulders. "They're your friends." 

Merlin's answer was a weak smile and a nod. 

"Yeah?" asked Gwaine, catching his eyes. 

"Yeah," confirmed Merlin. 

Gwaine slapped his friend's shoulder. "You'll just have to put up with the rest of the world." Gwaine pulled the younger man into a one armed hug. "We'll help." 

Merlin looked at Gwaine seriously. "Will magic ever be accepted?" 

"By everyone? Never. But you can't spend all your life worried about the odd fish. Most people will accept magic eventually. Most of the knights are over their initial crisis. All they need is a little time." 

"You are an odd fish, you know that don't you Gwaine?" Merlin said, his good humor partially restored by his friend's optimism. 

Gwaine feigned surprise, "Says the most powerful sorcerer in the world? Pot, kettle, friend." 

Merlin furrowed his brow and pushed away from the knight. "Not you too." 

Gwaine cocked his head considering. "Normal is overrated, Merlin. Besides, who doesn't want to be the best at something, special in some way? And who isn't?" 

Merlin bit his lip, "Even Tremayne? And Agravaine?" 

Jauntily Gwaine replied, "Oh Tremayne's a very special tight ass. And Agravaine is the slimiest snake in all of Camelot." Gwaine laid his hands back on Merlin's arms. "And you are the best friend anyone could have. If you want everyone else to accept your magic, Merlin, maybe the first person who has to accept it is you." 

Merlin shook his head. "My magic is too much a part of me. I could never reject it." 

Gwaine considered that a moment. "Then maybe you just need to accept that other people can accept there being magic in the world and not worry about the ones that can't. Let it free a little." 

"You're sure?" asked Merlin pensively. 

Gwaine chuckled. "I'm never sure about anything. Except my friends. But I don't let it stop me from living my life." 

Merlin looked at his friend speculatively. "How would you feel about a walk to an enchanted garden?" 

"With you?" Gwaine slung his arm around Merlin's shoulders. "Let's go." 

********************

"You're so stupid!" shouted Balin at his twin. It was uncomfortable to look at Balan right now because it meant turning his eyes toward the setting sun and his back was aching enough from being bent into the stocks all afternoon. 

Balan's hands rattled in the stock holes as he shook spinach leaves from his hair. "I'm stupid? You're the one who's stupid!" 

"You're both idiots," commented the red-haired knight who'd watched over them all afternoon. Neither of the twins realized how little had been thrown at them because of Kay's repressive presence. "And the sooner you realize how stupid you both are the sooner you can begin to learn some wisdom." Kay pulled out a key and began unlocking the twins. 

"And who do you think you are?" demanded Balan. 

Kay cocked his head to the side. "I think I'm a Knight of Camelot. And you're not. Off you go if you want more supper than what's caught in your hair." He caught Balan by the arm and spun him in the direction of the castle, swatting him on the butt in the process. 

Balin danced out of the way of Kay's abortive grab as he followed his twin. He kept glancing back at the knight until he was sure they were out of earshot. "Hey!" he said, grabbing Balan by the arm. 

"What?" demanded Balan surily, giving Balin a shove. 

"I've been thinking," said Balin, balling a fist like he might hit his twin if he tried anything else. 

"With what?" asked Balan, rolling his eyes. 

"Fine," said Balin, striding away. "I'll go to the sorcerer by myself. He'll pick me anyway." 

"Not if I get there first!" said Balan, catching up to his brother and shouldering him aside. 

Balin shouldered Balan back as they crossed the drawbridge. "My idea. Clearly I'm smarter than you." 

"And if the King catches us?" asked Balan. 

Balin shrugged. "He didn't say we couldn't see the sorcerer. He said mother couldn't." 

"Yeah," agreed Balan. "That's right." He tapped the back of his fingers against his twin's chest and indicated a guardsman who had just been relieved of his post by a door off to the side of the main stairs. Balan swaggered up to the man as Balin watched. "Excuse me, I have a bet on with my twin there and I was wondering if you could settle it for us?" 

The guard eyed him suspiciously. "If it's within my power and not against orders." 

Balan grinned. "Balin thinks the sorcerer lives somewhere in the cellars and I say the proper place for a sorcerer to live is in one of the towers." 

The guard snorted. "Well, you win that one, my boy. The King gave him the center north tower but I'd not go near, not without orders." 

"Scary, is he?" asked Balan confidentially. 

The guard nodded shortly. "Saw him training with the knights just this morning. Sir Peredur caught a knock so hard they had to put him to bed and the knights were worried he wouldn't wake. Heard he woke for a while but won't be up for days maybe. Wouldn't catch me volunteering to go up against the Court Sorcerer with less than a squad and that with surprise on my side." 

Balin came up beside his brother. "Can't be all that powerful a sorcerer, can he?" he asked doubtfully. 

Gruffly, the guard replied, "Never seen stronger and I've seen a few sorcerers executed in this city. You two ain't thinkin' on going to see him on some kind of a dare are you?" 

"Us?" asked Balan innocently. "No, Sir! Dares are for fools." 

The guard looked at the two boys shrewdly. "I ain't no Sir and you can keep your flattery to yourselves. Be off to your suppers and stay clear of the tower if you know what's good for you." 

The boys flashed the guard twin mischievous grins and ran for the stairs that would lead to the north tower. When they looked back, the guard was glaring at them with both hands on his hips, but he merely shook his head at them and walked away. They ducked into the archway and ran up the stairs, coming out onto a broad corridor at one point, but the doorway leading further up was obvious enough and the boys kept climbing. At the top they glanced at each other briefly before Balin knocked on the warped wood in a businesslike manner. When there was no answer the boys shared another look and Balan pulled open the door, which creaked on its hinges. 

They crept inside, looking around at the disarray. A four-poster bed stood next to one curtainless window, blankets still rumpled and thrown back from last night's sleep. A heavy wooden table with six equally heavy polished wooden chairs stood across from the bed and near to a fireplace, a broom leaning against the mantle. Beside the fireplace sat a more delicate cushioned chair and a heavier one both with armrests. Between the two chairs sat a low table with an inlaid chessboard, but no chess pieces. At the far end of the room a half built wooden framework under a trap door drew the twins' attention. Balan lightly stepped up on it, discovering quickly that it was meant to be stairs. Halfway up, he stopped on a landing where the rest of the stairs turned the opposite direction, though the upper half of them were missing. Balan reached a hand up and placed his fingertips on the trap door in the ceiling. 

"Clever that," said Balin, seeing that a grown man would be able to push the trap open from the landing. 

The door opened and Balan jumped down from the landing ready to face the sorcerer. He was disappointed though when a tall slender young man in old clothes walked through the door, a bag stuffed with grasses and leaves that poked out the top slung from his shoulder. 

The man cocked his head at the twins. "I thought everyone would be done with their work by now." 

"We're waiting for the sorcerer," declared Balin. 

"Are you?" asked the man, laying his burden on the table. 

"Yeah," confirmed Balan. "We have an important question to ask him." 

The man looked at them oddly and dumped his bag out on the table; rushes, bark, flowers, leaves, and whole plants spilling across it. "Must be important. Not too many seem to want to brave this room." 

"You don't seem to have that problem," said Balin distastefully. "You're making quite a mess." 

"I wouldn't think the sorcerer would like that at all," added Balan. "You should clean it up quickly and then you can run along and fetch him for us." 

The man's brows raised and lowered one after the other and the twins could have sworn he was laughing at them, though the laughter was only in his eyes and didn't bubble from his lips. "Why would I want to do that?" 

"Like we said," said Balin severely, "we have an important question for him." 

"Ok," said the man dropping into a chair and steepling his fingers. "What's the question?" 

"We don't want to ask you," said Balan, annoyed. "We want to ask the sorcerer." 

"Oh," said the man thoughtfully. "What's the sorcerer look like?" 

"Obviously you know," said Balan scornfully. "Don't you work for him?" 

"I work for the King," said the man. 

"But you're in the sorcerer's quarters," said Balin. 

"Yes," agreed the man, "as are you. And why is that if you weren't helping to put this room to rights earlier?" 

"We told you!" said Balan. 

"We have a very important question for the sorcerer," said Balin, becoming very annoyed. "Now fetch him for us at once!" 

The man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "No. I'm afraid I have too much to do." Then he barked a series of three words that neither twin knew and the broom swept its way across the room. It danced between them and began sweeping against their heels. The twins danced from foot to foot in protest at this treatment and the handle of the broom dipped to rap Balin and then Balan on the shoulder. The twins ran for the door, which opened of its own accord. The twins raced to the wide corridor they'd seen on their way up and only looked back at the slamming of the door. 

"That was the sorcerer!" declared Balan. 

"No kidding!" yelled Balin, suddenly furious and the two boys were quickly rolling on the floor wrestling each other in their frustrations. Balin had managed to shove Balan's jaw against the floor when they were both suddenly drenched. The twins scrambled to their feet, breathing hard, to face their assailant; a young man with brown hair and eyes dressed in peasant's garb. Mindful that this man, though clearly only a few years older than the twins, was dressed slightly better than the very powerful sorcerer had been Balin decided to gasp the obvious, "Who are you?" 

"I'm the King's manservant, Cadby," said the young man dropping a now empty water bucket to his side. "Come on. I'll show you where the rags are and you can get that cleaned up before the King sees it. He'll be up any minute." 

"Why should we follow the orders of a servant?" sneered Balan, tapping his chest. "We're knight's sons." 

"Sir Pellinore's sons?" asked Cadby. Not waiting for more than the barest nod of confirmation, he continued. "You're supposed to report to me in the morning to learn how to polish armor." 

"We know how to polish armor," said Balin arrogantly. 

"Our father taught us," confirmed Balan. "We don't need a servant to teach us how to polish armor." 

"But are you good enough at it to polish the King's armor?" asked Cadby. 

"Course we are," chorused the twins. 

"Good to know," said a new voice and the twins turned around to face the King's glare. "I take it you went to see the sorcerer after I specifically forbade it?" 

"You said _mother_ couldn't see the sorcerer," said Balan quickly. 

"Yeah, you didn't say we couldn't," agreed Balin. 

Arthur's eyes narrowed at the twins. "I think you know what was meant. So tomorrow before you polish my armor, you can clean the stables until they suit the stablemaster." 

"Oi," protested Balin. 

"But," objected Balan. 

"That is, if you wish to stay in my service," said Arthur sternly. "Of course, if you'd like to renounce your service you forfeit your claims on your father's estate and you can be off to seek your fortune. Good luck to you." The King half-turned away. 

"That's a little harsh, don't you think, Arthur?" The twins looked up to see the sorcerer standing a third of the way up his stair. 

"Merlin, what have I told you about appearing in your old clothes?" asked the King. 

"You should talk," protested Merlin. "Don't you have another banquet to get ready for?" 

Arthur growled, "It seems all my servants are busy elsewhere." 

"Can't even dress yourself," teased Merlin, descending the stair. "How do you manage to be King?" 

Arthur stared into the sorcerer's eyes. "By dealing with problems wherever I find them. Speaking of…" he said, turning his attention to the twins. 

"Oh… but… we were perfectly polite when we went up to see the sorcerer. Weren't we, mi' lord?" asked Balan, appealing to Merlin. Merlin merely raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Then why are you all wet?" asked Arthur suspiciously. 

"Oh, I bumped into them, Sire," said Cadby, stepping forward. "My fault entirely, but your pages were kind enough to offer to clean it up for me. I was just about to show them where to find the rags." 

"Were they?" asked Arthur with a knowing smile. 

"Pages?" asked Balan. 

"We should be squires at least," grumbled Balin. 

"You haven't earned the rank of squire yet," said Arthur. "But willingness to work and a bit of humility would be a step in the right direction. Off you go." 

Cadby pointed down the corridor past Arthur and the twins allowed themselves to be shepherded to an antechamber filled with supplies. Cadby indicated the self of rags. 

As he was grabbing an armload, Balan looked up at Cadby artfully. "So we're to be the King's personal squires then?" 

"If you earn it," confirmed Cadby. "If you're too much trouble, he'll likely get someone else to take you on, but that could be old Sir Ector who's down with the gout more often than not if the King decides he wants you out of Camelot proper." 

Balin caught his twin's eyes. "Can't be proper knights if we're not proper taught, I suppose." 

"Ector's son, Kay, is a knight," said Cadby confidentially, "but he had a rough enough time of it when he arrived. And you didn't hear that from me. You want one of the really skilled knights to teach you if you plan on winning tournaments when you're of age. And there aren't any more skilled than the King himself." 

"We already know how to use a sword," said Balin sulkily. 

"Well enough to defeat a belted knight?" asked Cadby doubtfully, as he shooed the twins back down the corridor to the water spill. Both Arthur and Merlin had disappeared and the corridor seemed empty enough, though sounds of bustle could be heard from the stairwell below. 

"Well, probably not," allowed Balan. "Do you think some of the knights would spar with us?" 

"If you have the King's favor, probably so," allowed Cadby, dropping the rags he carried into the water spill. "If he's annoyed with you, not on your life. And you'd best get off Merlin's bad side quick enough too. The King listens to him and he has friends among the knights." 

"We didn't know who he was!" protested Balan. 

"Do you know who anyone in Camelot is?" asked Cadby. 

"Well, we know the King," said Balin cheekily. 

"And if you want to keep being able to say you know the King, you'd better keep your heads down until you figure out who is who in Camelot, including knowing your own place." The servant turned and started walking away. 

"Hey," called Balin. "Aren't you going to clean this up?" 

"No, you are," said Cadby over his shoulder. 

"Who made you the boss of us?" asked Balan. 

Cadby just smiled. "The King. Pages." 

****************

"Get out of my wardrobe," complained Merlin, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"I have to go to this damn feast, so do you," said Arthur pulling a worn blue tunic out of Merlin's wardrobe, frowning at it and tossing it onto the sorcerer's bed. "Do you know how many questions I got about magic last night? Suddenly, I'm the expert on the subject. Except I'm not. You are. So you're going. Don't you have a clean pair of britches? The ones you're wearing are filthy. How many times did you fall down today?" 

"I lost count," said Merlin sarcastically. "And no, they're all in the laundry basket." 

"Well, why haven't you done your laundry?" asked Arthur, pulling the basket out of the bottom of the wardrobe. 

"Because I can only do my laundry in the middle of the night if I don't want to terrify the laundresses." 

"Are these my socks?" asked Arthur, holding one up. 

"Yeah. Cadby gave them to me to wash as per your orders." 

"I didn't mean it literally." 

"You're the King. You mean everything literally." 

"I'll give him something to take literally. He can do your laundry in the morning." 

"It's not fair to load double chores on Cadby because the servants are afraid of me," said Merlin crossly. 

Arthur shrugged. "I always loaded double chores on you." 

"But I had my magic to help me get through them." 

Arthur threw a pair of britches at Merlin's chest. "Here, these are passable." 

"Doubtful after they've been in a basket with your socks," mumbled Merlin. 

Arthur shook out a cream colored tunic from the wardrobe and tossed it on Merlin's shoulder. "Get changed and then you can help me with my raiment for the evening." 

Merlin threw the clothes on his bed and sat down to pull off his boots. "Raiment? My, aren't we being royal?" 

"Yes, we are," said Arthur with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm going to have Gwen double the size of your wardrobe, the good clothes at least. I expect you to be able to make a good impression whenever I call you to appear in court." 

Merlin stripped out of the clothes he'd worn gathering herbs in the forest that day and quickly pulled on the ones Arthur had picked out for him. "I don't need more clothes, Arthur. I have plenty." 

"Merlin, you really don't get this, do you?" asked Arthur, dropping into the chair by the fire. "You're part of my court now, not just my servant. How you look reflects on me." 

"So you want me to look like what, Arthur?" asked Merlin averting his eyes and pulling his black leather vest from the wardrobe. "Your bad-ass sorcerer? Your enforcer?" 

"What nonsense are you talking now?" asked Arthur, grimacing at the thought. "I want you to look like a defender of the realm; like a knight without his armor." Arthur got up and took Merlin by the shoulders, turning the sorcerer toward him. "I want you to show the kingdom the man I trust with my life." 

Merlin drew a sharp breath. "Truly?" 

"Truly," said Arthur, ruffling Merlin's hair roughly. 

"Gah," protested Merlin, ducking away. "Percival really started something. Didn't he?" 

"Well, that's something else for Gwen's shopping list, now isn't it?" asked Arthur smirking. 

"What now?" huffed Merlin. 

"A comb." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more stories to go! But it will be a wait. I hope some of you will be around to see the end. In the meantime, here is what I believe will be the summary for the next story (now if I can just come up with a title):
> 
> _Arthur always knew he’d have to prove his worth as a capable king when the time came for him to take the throne. He never would have guessed he’d also have to prove he had a great sorcerer beside him._
> 
> Thanks for all the wonderful comments and encouragement!


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